


The Curse of the Pharaoh

by mag_lex



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Ancient Egypt, Developing Relationship, F/F, Gay Panic, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, SOFT GAYS, thasmin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-13 21:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18039308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mag_lex/pseuds/mag_lex
Summary: 1922. Team TARDIS visit the Valley of the Kings and meet Howard Carter, who is just about to discover Tutankhamun's tomb. But will they manage to escape the series of unfortunate events that follow?Featuring gay disaster Yaz.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I was obsessed with this story when I was a kid. I hope I've done it justice!

It all started with a trip to Egypt. More specifically, to a place hundreds of miles south of Cairo, on the banks of the river Nile. Graham had requested a journey to the land of the pharaohs, reminiscing about his school days and then insisting on a visit to the Valley of the Kings when Ryan and Yaz admitted to knowing very little about Egyptian history.

“Don't start saying how much different things were in your day,” Ryan complained, scuffing his trainers at the prospect of more history, and knowing from the look on Graham's face that he was about to launch into that very topic. Thrown off course, Graham looked to the Doctor in exasperation.

“Back me up on this, Doc. We owe a lot to the ancient Egyptians.”

The Doctor nodded sagely, putting her hands on her hips. Yaz tried to ignore how majestic she looked with the orange glow of the late afternoon sun surrounding her as she stood on the rocky outcrop.

“Graham's right, you know. Toothpaste, eyeliner, even paper! All invented by the Egyptians.”

“Toothpaste?” Ryan didn't seem all that impressed.

“Just imagine how bad peoples' breath was before that, though, Ryan. Or how long it would have taken to write something in stone, the Mesopotamians had it a lot worse.”

Yaz couldn't help but smile at the Doctor's encyclopaedic knowledge, which never failed to spark interest. She could convince even the most reluctant traveller to come with her. Really, Yaz always wanted to travel with the Doctor, regardless of their destination. They could have landed in Slough and the Doctor would no doubt have found something new and exciting to discover. But Yaz knew her enthusiasm had very little to do with where they were going; rather, it stemmed from who she was travelling with. She watched, enraptured, as the Doctor expounded the benefits of ink and paper.

“...isn't that right, Yaz?”

 _Whoops_.

“Er...yes,” she nodded, completely unaware of what she'd just agreed to.

Ryan smirked at her and she found herself wanting to punch him in the arm. Instead, she felt her cheeks grow warm as the Doctor smiled at her softly, before continuing her spiel about the foundations of modern civilisation.

Graham sidled up to her.

“Daydreaming, Yaz?”

“Just a bit warm, is all.” Yaz fanned at her face ineffectually with her hand.

“Right, right. Nothing to do with a certain someone?”

This time, Yaz did find herself reaching out and giving Graham a push on the arm. She hated being caught out because if she was that obvious, surely the Doctor would notice, too.

“Don't worry, your secret's safe,” Graham tried to reassure his travelling companion.

“Not really a secret though, is it, if you can tell,” Yaz grumbled. She turned away from the Doctor to ease the butterflies in her stomach, heading for the shade cast by the TARDIS.

“There's only so much you can hide, Yaz. But really, I don't think you have anything to worry about, she's still in full flow.” It might have been his age, but Graham always had a way of putting Yaz at ease.

“You sure?” she exhaled, shakily. It rattled her that even Ryan had noticed her gawping.

He gestured towards the Doctor, who was entering that stage where she couldn't keep her hands still. Even Ryan was starting to get caught up in it. Yaz sighed.

“Besides, I don't want to set the cat among the pigeons, but I don't think it's entirely one-way, if you catch my drift.” Graham watched her carefully and Yaz felt a rush through her veins.

 _Of what?_ It felt like fear. Even the idea that the Doctor would reciprocate what she felt was enough to stop her thoughts dead in their tracks. _A fantasy, surely?_ One that she didn't dare consider too closely in case she got swept up, leaving her open to a whole world of hurt.

“I doubt it,” she said, dismissively, keen to change the topic. She shook her head, striding forward into the sunshine to join the others.

“Doctor?” she interrupted, eager to get moving and keep busy. The Doctor stopped talking instantly.  
  
“Yes, Yaz?”

“Can we go and find some tombs or something? You know, have a poke around? There are people down there, maybe they can show us?” To her own ears she sounded fraught, frantic, even, and the Doctor frowned a little, seeming to pick up on it.

Yaz gestured vaguely to the middle distance, where white tents and marquees were clustered at various points of interest.

“Oh! Right, of course. Let's go, fam!” With that, the Doctor spun on her heel, heading off towards the tents.

Yaz exhaled, relieved that they were on the move, ready to push her thoughts aside with an adventure. In hindsight, she would wish they'd never left the TARDIS.


	2. A night at camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team TARDIS make it to the dig site and Yaz is a gay mess.

“Hold on! Where do you think you're going?”

Yaz turned as an Englishman in a white linen suit chased after them, or rather, tried to; running on sand was difficult, and he was practically purple by the time he reached them. His hair was sticking up in all directions, his crumpled white suit more of a faded yellow from sweat and the fierce sunshine.

The Doctor waited patiently for him to catch up, moving herself in front of her companions, just in case. Yaz could already see her rummaging in her pocket, no doubt for her psychic paper. Luckily, this particular gentleman seemed completely harmless, if a bit miffed.

“Who the devil are you?” he huffed, “and where did you come from? The next group isn't due to arrive for another two weeks.” He eyed them up suspiciously, realising he was outnumbered and stubbornly holding onto his trowel, as if it offered much in the way of protection.

“Oh, we managed to get an earlier...boat,” the Doctor bluffed, dropping the paper back into her pocket. The man's face transformed instantly and he lowered his trowel.

“How splendid! Apologies for the rude welcome, we've had some trespassers recently, they cause terrible trouble.” The man smiled, turning on the charm. It didn't quite work on Yaz, or maybe it was his posh accent. Either way, there was something about this man that she didn't quite trust.

“You must be Doctor Roberts,” the man said, instantly gliding past the Doctor to extend a hand to Graham.

Even with her back to them, Yaz knew the Doctor was rolling her eyes. She could see it from the tension in her shoulders, and because she herself had to fight the urge to do so.

“Er, yes, that's right! Doctor Roberts,” Graham said, affably, extending his hand and catching the Doctor's eye as she turned to smile at them. He could see how it didn't quite reach her eyes, but this didn't seem to deter their new friend, who eyed up the rest of the team.

“And these must be your...assistants?”

Yaz could swear she'd seen steam coming out of the Doctor's ears. Thankfully, Graham was one of the more diplomatic people she had met.

“No, these are my colleagues, Yaz, and Ryan, and...the Doctor.”

The man's eyes lit up.

“Doctor? Another luminary, wonderful! In that case, I expect you're keen to get to work.”

“Yes,” the Doctor finally spoke, hands in her pockets. “But first – who are you?” Yaz smiled as the Doctor got straight to the point; she suspected the Doctor was as dubious about this character as she was.

“Forgive me. Charles Broome. But you can call me Charlie.” He finally extended a hand to the Doctor, who eyed it up before returning a brief handshake. Undeterred, Broome gave Yaz a limp handshake, then Ryan, before patting down his flyaway hair.

“I suppose the excavators are helping with your luggage?” He looked around, thrown by their lack of equipment.

“Yeah,” Ryan interjected vaguely, “they'll be along later.”

“Well then, let's get moving! Nearly time for some dinner, I imagine. You can tell me about your journey as we walk.”

It was surely not coincidental that Broome attached himself to Graham almost immediately, who looked back with an expression of mild panic. The Doctor waved him on, knowing that Graham could talk his way out of anything. Instead, she lingered, letting Ryan walk ahead so she could stay near Yaz.

“Alright, Yaz? You seem a bit distracted today.”

“Oh yes, all fine with me, nothing to worry about!”

The Doctor eyed her with concern.

“Are you sure? You seem a bit flushed.”

With that, cool fingertips were suddenly on her cheek and Yaz stalled. Literally stalled, stopping in place as she struggled to compute what was going on. _The Doctor is touching me. Help_.

“Er...”

 _Thanks, brain_.

“You feel a little warm.” The Doctor frowned. “Did you feel like this earlier?”

Yaz pulled away, unable to take the contact anymore, watching sadly as the Doctor quickly put the offending hand back in her pocket.

“Just...hot.” She sighed. _That would have to do._

“Well, if you want to head back at any time, just let me know. Can't have you feeling rubbish! I need my Yaz happy and healthy.” The Doctor smiled at her again and Yaz felt herself melting at her words. She nodded curtly, trying to smile back and feeling it come out as more of a rictus grin.

“Of course.”

If the Doctor was perturbed by how Yaz was acting, she didn't show it. Instead, she nattered away as they walked, and Yaz found herself caught up in her stories to the point where she forgot the awkward moment completely.

Soon enough they had reached the main camp, which was a hive of activity. Local men were heaving tools back from the nearest dig, directed by another middle-aged Englishman who shouted occasional directions over the noise of their chatter.

Ryan sniffed the air, instantly detecting the food tent.

“Over there, right?” Without waiting for a response, he was off, the rest of the group trailing in his wake.

“Wait a sec, Charlie!" The Doctor called. "Can you show us to our tent?”

“Oh right, yes. Since you're the only women in camp, you'll have to share – I hope that's okay?”

The Doctor looked to Yaz, seeing nothing but a blank expression, and nodded.

“Definitely! Right, Yaz?” Something was definitely up with her companion, but she had no idea what was going on. She made it her mission to get to the bottom of it.

Yaz nodded mutely. _Today was going from bad to worse_. Her mind went to places she couldn't help but think of. Surely they wouldn't have to share a bed?

Of course they would. Her heart sank as she realised there was only one cot in the tent.

“That's alright, Yaz, I don't need to sleep anyway. I'll keep myself busy! Besides, we might not even be here that long.” The Doctor was being considerate and lovely, as ever. Yaz knew she was being awkward, so she made a conscious effort to act more normally.

“We can both fit in there, Doctor. Don't worry. Please.” Yaz smiled, trying to ignore the panic that the mental images were inducing. The Doctor ran a hand down her arm, squeezing her hand when it reached the end. She grinned at Yaz, trying to put her at ease.

“Shall we eat? I don't know about you, but all that walking has left me really quite hungry.”

Yaz laughed lightly, bumping the Doctor's shoulder with her own as she walked back towards the mess tent.

\----------

Hours later, when she had met every single archaeologist at camp and drunk the bitterest coffee she had ever tasted, Yaz finally excused herself to get some air. She was actually enjoying herself, learning about what the excavators had found and hearing murmurings that Lord Carnarvon was due to arrive the following day. Graham had got excited at this point.

“Wait, you know what this means?”

The Doctor nodded, her face reflecting his excitement.

Yaz and Ryan looked at one another and shrugged.

“Cor, we timed this brilliantly! Was that intentional, Doctor?”

The Doctor nodded, then shook her head. “No idea!”

“When Carnarvon gets here, Carter opens the tomb!”

“What tomb?” said Ryan, struggling to hear Graham's hushed words over the animated conversation happening on the other table.

“Tutankhamun!”

Yaz knew the name – was pretty certain the image she had of ancient Egypt was something to do with him, that blue and gold-striped mask – but that was about it.

“Who's that, then?” Ryan always knew he could ask a question without judgment.

“It's not so much who he was as how important his tomb was,” the Doctor interjected. “His was the most complete tomb they ever found. It was meant to be incredible,” she sighed, imagining the prospect.

“So wait, we're going to see it, as it happened?”

“Well, we can't be there when they open it,” the Doctor admitted. “But we might be able to take a peek afterwards.” She grinned at Ryan, glad to see he was more enthusiastic.

“Awesome,” Ryan smiled back. “A real-life tomb.”

“It's not going to be like Tomb Raider, you know that?” Yaz laughed.

At that, Ryan had picked up a spare piece of bread, throwing it at her. Yaz thought she'd got rid of it all, but apparently not.

“You still have bread in your hair.”

The Doctor's voice startled her out of her reverie. Cursing herself for daydreaming again, Yaz reached up to find the offending food. The Doctor laughed as she failed to find it, before helping her dislodge it.

“There, no birds will attack you now.” She folded her arms, leaning on the post next to Yaz.

“Bit cold, isn't it? I forget how chilly the desert gets.”

“Mmm.” Yaz was content just gazing up towards the stars. She felt talked out and slightly overwhelmed. The Doctor seemed to sense her mood.

“This whole sleeping arrangement...are you sure you're okay with it?”

She toed the sand, giving Yaz space and time to answer.

“Of course, Doctor. In fact, what do you say? Are you ready for bed?” Yaz almost swallowed the words, pushing past her anxiety to fully embrace the situation. The coffee and the cold air probably meant she wouldn't get much sleep anyway, never mind with the Doctor sharing her bed.

“Yes, I think you're onto something there. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.” With that, the Doctor led the way back to their tent, quickly shrugging off her coat and boots before clambering onto the far side of the cot.

“I hope you don't mind going on the outside, Yaz. I tend to fidget. And then I'd probably fall out and wake you up.”

Yaz smiled at the sight of the Doctor's face poking out of the sheets while she kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her shirt with trembling fingers. Thankfully, she was wearing a tank top underneath, so there wasn't going to be too much skin on show. It was cold enough that she planned to sleep in her trousers, anyway.

She edged into the bed carefully, trying not to touch the other woman.

“Did you pack a toothbrush?” _Of all the things to ask..._.

“I always come prepared. I brought one for you, too, you know. Dental hygiene is very important, and besides, the ancient Egyptians wouldn't be too chuffed if we didn't bring toothpaste, would they!” Yaz rolled her eyes affectionately.

“You are such a nerd, sometimes.” Yaz bit her lip, not entirely sure where that had come from.

“Is that a compliment?” The Doctor frowned.

“For you? Yes, I reckon that is. You know too much, Doctor.”

“I don't think I do, you know. Not really.” The Doctor was looking directly into her eyes, a gaze that made Yaz squirm under its intensity. “For instance, I don't know what's going on in that head of yours.”

She propped herself up on an elbow then, looking down at Yaz.

“You wouldn't want to know,” Yaz sighed, placing a palm over her eyes in an attempt to hide from the other woman's gaze.

“I would,” the Doctor said, softly. She eased Yaz's palm from her face, her expression questioning.

“Maybe another time, eh?” Yaz knew it was a weak deflection, but the Doctor was nothing if not persistent. Continuing to say no would just make her more determined.

“Hmm. Okay. I'm holding you to that, Yasmin Khan.” Yaz gulped at the use of her full name, which the Doctor only did when she meant business. She nodded.

Satisfied, the Doctor finally flopped back onto the thin mattress, closing her eyes.

“Goodnight, Yaz. Sleep well.”

With that, the Doctor was asleep almost instantly. Yaz couldn't believe how quickly she had nodded off. She listened to her slow, even breaths for a few minutes, trying to calm her racing heart. She could feel the heat emanating from the Doctor's body, which was so close to her own. Yaz had to admit that it was pleasant, though, especially given how cold it was outside. She burrowed down into the sheets, inhaling the warm, comforting scent of the Doctor and willing it to soothe her enough to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Yaz.


	3. Finding the tomb

The ache between Yaz's legs was intolerable as she writhed on the bed, trying to find relief. It was so hot that she could barely breathe. She had a vague sense of material shifting underneath her, soft under her back, and the feel of someone else's body next to hers. Suddenly, she saw a flash of the Doctor's blonde hair, tickling her as she moved downwards, her mouth leaving a trail of fire as it caressed the warm skin of her stomach. _Holy shit_. Yaz could feel the pressure mounting as those lips edged closer to where she needed them most.

“Oh, Yaz,” the Doctor moaned, obviously enjoying herself. “You're so beautiful.” She placed a careful kiss on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and Yaz shuddered, moaning loudly as the Doctor looked up with a smug grin.

“Did you like that, Yaz?”

Yaz could only nod, but the repeated use of her name was a little jarring. She needed the Doctor to carry on and bring her off.

“Yaz?”

There it was again. This time, it sounded a bit more urgent. _Weird._ The Doctor seemed perfectly happy where she was, between Yaz's legs. In fact, Yaz wasn't entirely sure how she was speaking given that her mouth was presently very occupied.

“Yaz, wake up!”

Yaz awoke with a start, realising she was panting for breath and absolutely roasting hot. Daylight had filled the tent, and the Doctor's face was very close to her own, to the point where Yaz could see the slight laughter lines at the corner of her eyes.

Having just woken up it took Yaz a moment to get her bearings, belatedly coming to terms with the fact that she'd been having an incredibly realistic wet dream about the very woman in front of her. _Shit_.

Even with some serious bed-head, the Doctor up close was a sight to behold. Yaz's mouth went as dry as the desert surrounding them.

“Are you okay? You were making these unhappy little noises.”

_Oh, no._

“What do you mean?” Despite her fears, Yaz had to know how badly she'd embarrassed herself.

“Well, you were moaning a bit. Sounded like a bad nightmare.”

 _Kill me now_.

The Doctor was looking at her with concern that Yaz knew she definitely didn't deserve.

“Yes, just a bad dream,” she lied, unable to meet the Doctor's eyes. _If only you knew_.

“Sorry, Yaz. They're the worst.” The Doctor looked so genuinely sympathetic then that Yaz felt truly awful.

“It's okay, nothing too bad.” She cleared her throat, trying to shake the lingering images of her dream from her mind. “What time is it?”

Thankfully, the Doctor didn't comment on the change in conversation topic.

“Eight. There's a bit of a commotion going on, I'm surprised you slept through it!”

Yaz realised there was indeed a lot of noise in the camp, and she propped herself up on her elbows as she woke up fully.

“Did I miss anything?”

The Doctor grinned. “No, you woke up just in time. Come on.” She stood up, extending a hand. Yaz took it gratefully, her knees still weak.

“Wait a sec,” she muttered, reaching up to fix the Doctor's hair. As she touched the golden strands, Yaz felt the phantom sensation of it drifting over her stomach and it took all of her reserves to stay upright.

\---------

“Morning, ladies.” Graham raised a mug of coffee in salute.

“Alright, Graham? Where's Ryan?” The Doctor scouted the horizon, squinting into the bright sunshine.

“Still eating.”

The Doctor looked impressed. “How about you, Yaz, would you like some breakfast?”

Yaz shook her head, still flustered. Food was the last thing on her mind.

“Suit yourself,” the Doctor shrugged amiably, heading off to the tent to join Ryan. Yaz took the opportunity to settle herself, and sat next to Graham.

“Are you okay, Yaz? You look a little peaky, if you don't mind me saying.”

“Yeah, I-I didn't sleep that well,” Yaz admitted.

Graham simply nodded, as if he knew how much she was struggling. “Coffee?”

Yaz nodded, grateful for the caffeine.

“Has that person arrived yet? The one you were excited about yesterday?”

Graham smiled as he handed over the mug. “Carnarvon's already here. I haven't seen Carter yet, but I'm sure they're already down there.”

He looked like a kid at Christmas, and Yaz couldn't help but grin at his enthusiasm. “And then?”

“Well, then I was hoping we could have a look for ourselves. I'm sure the Doctor will be up for a nosey, she seemed to think so yesterday.”

As if she'd heard her name being mentioned, the Doctor reappeared, brushing toast crumbs from the corner of her mouth. She tended to inhale food, which Yaz always found oddly charming.

“Ready, fam? Ryan said they headed down a couple of hours ago, so I reckon we could take a walk and see what we can find.” Her gaze landed on Yaz last of all, and they smiled at one another for a long moment. Yaz could feel the butterflies in her stomach come to life.

“Yeah, hurry up!” Ryan shouted, already walking towards the conglomeration of people who had emerged in the distance.

“For someone who really didn't want to be here, he's awfully keen,” the Doctor observed, before linking Yaz's arm with hers and following his lead.

\---------

“Howard! How was it?” Broome was in the midst of the action, attaching himself to Carter's side as soon as he emerged from the pit. Only a select few had been permitted to follow Carter down, including Carnarvon and his daughter, both of whom had apparently arrived in the middle of the night. Yaz wondered how on earth she'd slept through that, especially given how long it had taken her to fall asleep.

“Wonderful, Charlie. Just marvellous.” The man himself was beaming, and Yaz couldn't help but get swept up in the excitement.

“Think I could take a look, old chap?” Broome was wringing his hands, obviously eager to inspect the tomb for himself.

“We need a couple of hours to clear the doorway and we can send in a few more groups,” Carter said, keen to manage expectations. “I, for one, need a stiff drink first. What do you say, George?”

Lord Carnarvon emerged from the pit, echoing Carter's sentiments. “Spiffing. Got any of that whisky left?”

“Hear, hear,” Broome said, clasping Carter's hand in his own as he led them towards a nearby tent. “Can I introduce you to a friend of mine while we toast?”

He gestured over to Graham, who looked shell-shocked at the invitation. Yaz had never seen him so lost for words before.

“Me?” Graham gestured at himself, awed at the possibility of meeting one of his childhood heroes. Broome nodded encouragingly.

“Howard, George, let me introduce you to Dr Roberts...”

\---------

“And then, well, then he said he could see gold! I can only imagine how that must have felt.” Graham was regaling them with details of his conversation with the one and only Howard Carter while they waited for the excavators to finish clearing the doorway.

Yaz and Ryan indulged him while the Doctor stood outside, frowning at the sky. Oddly shaped grey clouds had started to gather in the stratosphere, almost unnoticeable to the casual observer; but the Doctor was anything but casual. Resisting the urge to whip out her sonic, knowing the phenomenon was too far away to get a reading, she made do with scrutinising the formations from a distance.

Ryan joined her, mirroring her pose and standing with his hands on his hips as he gazed upwards. “What are you looking at?”

“I have no idea. Do you see those clouds?” The Doctor pointed, but it was futile. They were barely visible. Ryan shrugged.

“No, sorry. What do you see?”

“I'm not sure, but there shouldn't be clouds that high up, not really. But hey, nothing to worry about, I'm sure,” the Doctor said, brightening as she turned to face him.

“How's Graham getting on?”

“Loving life,” Ryan said, tilting his head to listen in as Graham's voice drifted out of the tent.

Before the Doctor could reply, Broome approached them, waving his arms like a madman.

“The door is open! Come, quickly, come and see what Howard has found.”

\---------

Although the Doctor wanted nothing more than to get stuck in and see, she urged patience as several others filtered in and out of the chamber that had been uncovered. It was chaotic, to say the least, and Graham was almost hopping with impatience by the time things had settled down.

“Think we can go now?

The Doctor grinned. “Looks like we're the last. Let's go, fam!”

As they made their way inside, the first thing Yaz noticed was the smell. It was to be expected, she supposed, the stale aroma. No living beings had been in this space in hundreds of years, until now. It was a bit surreal, being some of the first people in this place in such a long time. There was a stream of fresher air by the entrance, but it was like walking through a fog of mustiness as they progressed into the darker depths.

Thankfully, the excavators had placed flaming torches in several nooks in the wall, which got rid of the worst of the gloom. There were still pockets of pure black, which Yaz tried hard to ignore. It was a little creepy, even with the meagre light.

Graham and Ryan, however, were not remotely perturbed by the atmosphere, peering at the treasures on display. Yaz walked over to the Doctor, who was inspecting the hieroglyphics on the wall.

“Do you know what that says?” she asked, genuinely curious.

The Doctor frowned, unsure how much she should divulge. She judged that Yaz would want to know, and could handle the truth.

“My read on these might be a little off, admittedly, but this bit here?” She gestured to a cluster of symbols with her sonic.

“It's a warning.”

She turned to look at Yaz, her face barely visible in the gloom - and then completely gone from view when, suddenly, all of the lights went out.


	4. An unfortunate turn of events

As soon as the light went out, several things happened at once.

Graham let out a shout of alarm, and there was the sound of something falling over, followed by the unmistakeable noise of Ryan cursing. Yaz felt a breeze drift past her, instantly setting the hairs on the back of her neck on end. She shivered, her hand reaching instinctively for the Doctor. Her fingertips found the material of her jacket, grasping tight as she tried not to panic.

“Doctor?” she whispered, fear making it hard to speak.

“You're okay, Yaz.” The Doctor's voice was in her ear, a protective arm wrapping around her shoulder. Yaz felt herself sag a little in relief, knowing that she was safe with the Doctor by her side. She didn't even feel remotely guilty for enjoying the close contact.

“Everyone alright?” the Doctor called out, her sonic providing the only light in the room as she held it aloft, still holding onto Yaz.

“Think so!” Graham shouted back.

“Just stubbed my toe,” Ryan groused. “But yeah, alright, I suppose.”

Yaz could feel the Doctor exhale in relief.

“What happened to the lights?” she asked, directing her question as best she could in the Doctor's general direction.

“I'm not sure, but I think we should probably get out of here. Come on,” the Doctor replied, grabbing hold of Yaz's hand and holding tight.

“Can you see my sonic?” she asked the others, fiddling with it to boost the glowing crystal enough to turn it into an improvised torch. Yaz waited as Graham and Ryan cautiously made their way over to them, trying to ignore how clammy her palm was in the Doctor's firm hold. _At least I can blame it on fear_.

She squeezed her hand subconsciously as that breeze drifted past her neck again, her ears on high alert as she heard...something...scuttling.

“Okay, Yaz?” The Doctor's reassuring voice was in her ear.

“I'm sure I heard something," Yaz whispered.

Again, the Doctor found herself not wanting to panic her companion, but she knew she'd heard movement too.

“Might just be an echo,” she said, trying to reassure Yaz. As the boys became visible, she started to lead the way out of the chamber, keen to get them into the safety of daylight.

Yaz could just about make out the Doctor's hair as she was gently pulled along, trying to focus on that instead of the claustrophobic darkness surrounding them. She yelped as she tripped over something unseen, bashing her ankle. The Doctor righted her instantly and they resumed their path, but Yaz couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

“Nearly there, gang.” The Doctor squeezed her hand, sensing her discomfort. Finally, they could see light from the entrance, and Yaz felt relief flood her veins as the darkness receded.

As soon as they were back outside, the whole thing felt like a strange dream. People were milling about the entrance, talking enthusiastically; the sun beat down on them, warming Yaz's chilled skin and making her feel slightly more human. She still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, though, and distanced herself from the entrance as soon as she could, reluctantly letting go of the Doctor's hand.

“Well, apart from that minor hiccup with the lights, I think that was a success!” the Doctor enthused, keeping an eye on Yaz as she moved away from the group.

“You're telling me, that was amazing! Thanks, Doc. I really mean it.” Graham didn't seem fazed by what had just happened, and Ryan was equally awestruck. As they chatted away about what they'd seen, the Doctor realised she'd lost sight of Yaz.

“How about a quick breather?” she suggested. “I'll be right back.”

Luckily, Yaz wasn't hard to find. She had found a shady spot around the back of one of the tents, slouching in a camp chair as she tried to recover her senses.

“There you are! Thought I'd lost you for a minute,” the Doctor smiled.

“Just needed to catch my breath for a bit, sorry, Doctor.”

“No need to apologise. Are you okay? I heard you bash into something.”

Only then did Yaz realise that her ankle was throbbing quite badly.

“Oh, yeah...I'm not sure actually, whatever I hit was pretty solid,” she admitted, frowning down at the offending limb.

“Can I take a look?” The Doctor was already on her knees at Yaz's feet, fingers itching to untie the laces of her Converse. Yaz was glad she was already sitting down, because the thought of the Doctor's hands on her, even in a very general capacity, was overwhelming. She nodded, knowing that the Doctor wouldn't take no for an answer. She always liked to make sure her companions were safe and well, but Yaz somehow doubted she'd do the same for Ryan's stubbed toe.

She hissed as the Doctor gently rolled down her sock, trying not to look too closely at the damage. The sight of blood always made her a bit queasy.

“Ouch,” the Doctor murmured as she inspected the bruised and broken skin. “That's a doozy! Luckily, I came prepared.” She smiled at Yaz as she dipped into her coat pocket, retrieving a miniature first aid kit.

“Just how deep are those pockets?” Yaz joked, trying to distract herself from the pain in her ankle.

“Let's just say that Mary Poppins' bag was based on Time Lord technology,” the Doctor winked, unscrewing the lid of some antibacterial cream. Yaz hissed as she gently applied it to the graze.

“Sorry, Yaz. Nearly done, I promise.” The Doctor was being so careful with her, over what was no doubt a minor injury, that Yaz felt her heart melting a little at the attention _._

The Doctor selected a plaster and smoothed it over the wound, before leaving a quick kiss on top of the material. Once again, Yaz was grateful she was sitting down, because even that brief contact left her swooning.

“There, all better!” the Doctor exclaimed, re-tying the laces of her shoe as Yaz tried to compute what had just happened. She was spared from having to formulate a response by the sound of a shout from the pit. The Doctor's ears instantly pricked up.

Given the general aura of excitement, it was hard to tell whether the shout was good or bad, but the Doctor was instantly on her feet, telling Yaz to stay put, and running towards the commotion.

She disappeared in the crowd almost immediately. Yaz winced as she eased herself out of the chair, hobbling a little as she re-joined Graham and Ryan. It was typical of the Doctor to throw herself into the midst of the action.

“What's going on?”

There was another cry, but this time it sent a shiver down Yaz's spine. It did not sound remotely happy; in fact, it sounded quite the opposite. And the Doctor was nowhere to be seen.

Against her better judgment, Yaz found herself drifting towards the panicking crowd, Graham and Ryan staying where they were.

“Doctor?” she called out, suddenly worried. Her voice was drowned out in the chaos and she edged towards the eye of the storm.

Excavators were still running towards the pit, swallowed up into the darkness of the entrance as Yaz could only stand and watch. _Where is she?_ The thought of going back into that chamber filled Yaz with dread, but she knew she would do it in a hearbeat if the Doctor was in trouble.

After interminable minutes, the Doctor finally emerged, face pale. Yaz's heart sank as she realised her hands were covered in blood.

“Doctor?” she choked out, making her way towards the other woman. She brushed past the crowd impatiently, wanting nothing more than to check she was alright; the sight of blood had cleared a convenient circle around her, and Yaz tried to ignore the way the splashes of crimson turned her stomach.

“Doctor?” she repeated, anxious to know that she was unharmed.

“Oh, hi, Yaz. Sorry. Bit of a mess in there.” The Doctor finally realised who she was talking to, but she seemed dazed. Yaz let her police training kick in, pushing aside her instinct to gather the Doctor in her arms. _Not appropriate, Yaz._

“Is that blood yours? Doctor? Can you hear me?”

It was frightening, seeing the Doctor so out of it. Only minutes ago, she'd been tending to Yaz's ankle and now...now, she seemed completely shocked. Yaz had never seen her like this before, and it worried her.

Belatedly, the Doctor looked down at her hands, regarding them as if they didn't belong to her.

“No. No, this isn't mine.”

Yaz sighed in relief, letting her instincts finally take over as she pulled the Doctor into a careful hug, ignoring the blood.

“You're okay,” she murmured, as much to herself as to the Doctor. “You're okay.”

\----------

As soon as Graham and Ryan had clapped eyes on them, the mood darkened.

“What happened, Doc?”

Ryan eyed the blood on her hands with concern, waiting for the Doctor to provide an explanation. When none was forthcoming, Yaz stepped in.

“Think we need to head back, yeah? I'm not sure what happened down there, but this blood isn't the Doctor's.”

Graham muttered his relief, but it was unnerving for the Doctor to be so quiet.

“Let's get that off you, eh, Doc?” he said, scouting the nearby tents for some water. “Ryan, why don't you see if you can find out what's going on? But don't go back in there, for goodness' sake.”

Ryan nodded, loping off to find someone who could fill him in.

“I'm just going to get some of that whisky Charlie had stashed away, I'll be right back,” Graham said, dashing off and leaving Yaz to help the Doctor clean up.

As Yaz helped scrub the blood from her hands, the Doctor finally seemed to come back to life.

“There was something down there, Yaz,” the Doctor said, biting her lip. “And I let us go in there. We got lucky,” she exhaled shakily, rubbing harder at the most stubborn patches of dried blood. Yaz grabbed hold of some cloth, gently batting the Doctor's hands away as she wiped the worst of it off before the Doctor could scrub the skin too hard.

“What happened?” Yaz asked, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

“One of the diggers, he...he was hurt.”

Yaz sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Was that his blood?” she asked. The Doctor nodded.

“You see, the thing is, when someone loses a liver, there's an awful lot of blood. The hepatic artery is very important, and-”

“Sorry, what?” Yaz couldn't believe what she was hearing. “His liver was missing?”

The Doctor nodded; the rush of words stopped. Her hands went limp in Yaz's own.

“I have a very bad feeling about this, Yaz. But I need to find out what's going on.”

Even though she was scared, the look of determination on the Doctor's face stirred something deep inside Yaz.

“Not on your own, you're not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for spamming you with a double update in one day! Mainly because there will be a short gap until the next chapter, but hopefully not for too long :)


	5. An evening by the fire

The mood at camp that night was subdued. It turned out that many of the local workers had fled, spooked by the discovery of the body in the tomb, and Yaz didn't blame them – she was as shaken as they were by the violent turn of events. A couple of archaeologists had joined them, but most of the others left behind had refused to believe that anything other than an accident had occurred.

Everyone had watched, silently, as the unlucky man's body was retrieved; a bloody sheet was the only sign that he had met an unpleasant end. Yaz heard the Doctor sigh beside her as they stood and watched, the only indication of her distress at the situation.

The moment of silence was broken by Carter himself, who looked badly shaken.

“Let us return tomorrow. I think it's time to draw a close to today, for better or worse.”

There were mutterings of assent from the assembled crowd, which slowly started to disperse.

“Doctor Carter?” The Doctor piped up, making her way towards him, Yaz following close behind.

“Yes?” he replied, distracted. “Oh, you were there, weren't you?” He nodded at the splashes of blood on her jacket. The Doctor looked down, grimacing as she realised what he was looking at. She smiled at him, attempting to draw his attention away from the gore and removing the offending item completely. She handed Yaz her sonic, who pocketed it carefully. Being trusted with the sonic was something that rarely happened, and Yaz felt a little tingle of excitement as it was bestowed upon her.

“I'm the Doctor, and I'm here to help.”

Carter looked at her blankly.

“Doctor...?”

“Yes, that's me! Got it in one. Look, I know it's been a bit of a busy day for you, but I wondered if you saw anything. You know, when you first went down there.”

“Or maybe you heard something?” Yaz supplied, keen to help.

The Doctor smiled at her gratefully. “Yes! Exactly. Anything unusual?”

“You mean, apart from a tomb that had been sealed for centuries?” Carter gave them a rueful grin.

“Apologies, Doctor. It's been a hell of a day. But honestly, I don't remember anything out of the ordinary, all things considered. If you'll excuse me, I think I need to get away from here, for now.” At that, he cast an uneasy glance back towards the pit and bade them farewell.

“Well, that was not illuminating.”

“I can't say I blame him, Doctor. The best moment of his life was just completely overshadowed.”

The Doctor sighed. “You're right, Yaz, as always. There's not much more we can do right now, so I think it's high time we get out of here and figure out a plan. What do you say?”

And so, the Doctor and her companions found themselves around a campfire later that evening, trying to piece together the limited evidence they had.

“You said you heard something, Yaz?” Ryan shuddered for effect. “I'm so glad you didn't tell me that at the time. That would have freaked me right out.”

“But that could have been anything, right, Doc? A scorpion or something?” Graham was trying desperately to be the voice of reason.

“Not helping, granddad!"

“True, it could have been something benign,” said the Doctor. “But did you get the sense that...I don't know, there was something there?”

“Like I was being watched,” Yaz said, rubbing her arms as a chill went through her. The Doctor edged slightly closer, their legs brushing, and Yaz shivered again for a completely different reason.

“I'm not going back down there, man. No way, no how.” Ryan got to his feet, completely unnerved.

“And you don't need to, Ryan. It's okay,” the Doctor reassured him.

 _But you do_ , Yaz thought.

“I'm coming with you.” The words were out of her mouth before she could even think twice.

“No way, Yaz. It's too dangerous.” The look on the Doctor's face only served to cement her determination.

“You need someone to watch your back, Doctor, and I'm staying with you. No matter what.” They looked at each other for a long moment, until Graham cleared his throat, diverting the Doctor's gaze.

“As am I.”

Ryan mumbled something as he stalked off into the night, clearly unhappy at the situation they had found themselves in.

“Give me a moment, Doc?”

The Doctor nodded and Graham excused himself to follow Ryan back to their tent, leaving the women alone with only the sound of crackling firewood for company. The silence was a bit eerie but also welcome after the tumultuous day they'd had. With a jolt, Yaz remembered exactly how she'd woken up that very morning. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if to fence herself off from the woman who was still pressed up against her.

“I'm serious, Yaz.” The Doctor had turned to face her, her tone sombre. “Someone died today. I want you to be safe, and I can't guarantee that if you come with me.”

“I can look after myself, Doctor. I promise.”

“I'll hold you to that,” the Doctor smiled, nudging Yaz with her elbow. Really, she was relieved for the company because deep down, she was a little worried about what she would find.

Meanwhile, Yaz was on a very different train of thought. This closeness, this familiarity between them – it was nice. If they had been in any other time or place, it might have even been romantic, sitting next to a fire under the stars. She shivered again as a stronger breeze picked up.

“Hang on,” the Doctor muttered, jumping to her feet and leaving Yaz adrift. She returned momentarily with a thick woollen blanket from their tent, which she draped carefully over Yaz's shoulders, returning to her seat on the bench by the fire. Yaz's heart skipped as she realised the Doctor had sat right back down where she was before, their legs still touching. She could have sat further away, given Yaz some space - but she hadn't.

“Are you not cold?” Yaz said, realising that the Doctor had completely got rid of her coat.

“Don't really get cold,” she replied, but Yaz didn't believe her. She said as much.

“Honestly! Great circulation.” 

“So you don't want to share with me?” Yaz said, opening the blanket up and hoping the Doctor would get the hint. Friends shared blankets all the time. It was a normal thing to offer. _Right?_

The Doctor cottoned on, eyes widening.

“Oh! Well, now that you mention it...” She rubbed her arms for emphasis. “It is a little bit fresh. Mind if I join you?”

Yaz nodded, emboldened, as she draped half of the blanket over the Doctor's shoulders. They were already sitting so closely together that it easily covered them both.

“This is nice,” the Doctor murmured.

Yaz nodded, trying very hard not to lean in any further. She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt an arm slide around her waist under the blanket.

“Is this okay?”

For the second time that day, the Doctor's face was ever so close to her own, making all conscious thought flee from Yaz's brain. She bit her lip, nodding in reply - it seemed that all she could do was nod when the Doctor was this close - and turned back to face the fire in the hope that the flames would hide her blushing cheeks. The combination of the fire and the Doctor's warmth had a soporific effect, and as the Doctor started to describe Egyptian astronomers and the alignment of the pyramids, Yaz found herself nodding off to the gentle voice in her ear, her head coming to rest on the shoulder that was so conveniently placed by her side. She could have sworn she felt the Doctor hold her closer in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found some time to write! (well, not really, I just sacrificed some sleep). But once a story gets in your head...it's kind of addictive.


	6. Another incident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this instead of doing work? Whoops.

In her dreams, Yaz was on a beach, basking in the warmth of the morning sun. She felt at peace, lying comfortably on the soft sand, totally relaxed. The gentle rhythm of the waves was barely audible but nevertheless there, soothing in its repetition.

Except now, someone was trying to get her to move, and she didn't want to.

“Not yet,” she mumbled, her hands grasping the towel underneath her reflexively.

“C'mon Yaz, time for bed.”

Realisation dawned slowly. Her hand froze in place, the material of the Doctor's shirts in a death grip.

“What happened?” she yawned, thoroughly confused and trying to figure out what she'd been doing in her sleep.

“You nodded off during the best bit! I'll have to tell you some other time.”

Yaz looked around them, realising that everyone else seemed to have gone to bed.

“Are we the last up? How long was I asleep for?” Yaz yawned again, feeling the lateness of the hour.

“About an hour, give or take.”

“And you just waited?” Yaz was touched.

The Doctor shrugged. “I was comfy. Plus, you seemed comfy, and tired, and I really didn't want to wake you up. And your dreams sounded much nicer, this time.”

Yaz frowned, trying to recall the vague details of her dream. She'd been on a beach, sunbathing, and that was all she could remember. But as she shifted, she could feel the tell-tale heat between her legs. _Not again._ Brief glimpses of the Doctor in a bikini made themselves known, and Yaz had to congratulate her subconscious for creating such a fantastic dream. But really, she could have done without that particular mental image right now, imaginary or not.

“Yeah, it was pretty nice,” Yaz admitted, getting to her feet and stretching out her legs with a grimace. “Thanks for letting me sleep.” The blanket fell away, exposing them both to the chill of the night air. Yaz instantly missed the comfort of it.

“Race you back?” the Doctor grinned, but she was off before she even finished her sentence. Yaz stumbled after her, more than willing to let her win this particular race, chuckling at her enthusiasm nonetheless.

The Doctor had just reached the tent when Yaz heard a noise. She stopped dead in her tracks, glancing around warily. Apart from the odd movement of tent flaps in the wind, there was nothing else out there. But she felt a shiver race up her spine as she stood in place, similar to what she'd felt in the tomb.

“Hello?” she whispered, feeling foolish but also wondering if she would get a response. Nothing.

Slowly, she started walking again, and there was another rustle – but closer, this time. She span on her heel. There was nothing there, but Yaz could feel her heart rate start to pick up in fear.

“Okay, Yaz, there's nothing there. Just the wind.” She chided herself for feeling so anxious, picking up the pace. The tent wasn't that far away, and now the Doctor had poked her head out, looking for her. As soon as she laid eyes on Yaz, her face lit up.

“Come on, Yaz!”

Focusing on the Doctor, Yaz continued her journey back to the tent, trying to ignore the sound that seemed to follow her every step.

\----------

That night, the Doctor insisted on sleeping on the outside. Just in case. Yaz wasn't going to argue, and she clambered into bed quickly, more than ready to feel safe.

“You okay, Yaz? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Just a bit spooked, I'm sure it's nothing.”

The Doctor frowned.

“Tell me. Please?”

Yaz could never resist those eyes. So, she told the Doctor what she'd heard, the noises that seemed to follow her every step. The Doctor tensed immediately, ready to jump out of the bed and investigate. It was the last thing on earth Yaz wanted her to do.

“No, please don't go back out there. I'm probably hearing things. Anyway, it's too dark out there to see anything.”

The Doctor seemed torn between seeing for herself and listening to Yaz's wishes.

“As soon as I saw you, I couldn't hear it anymore, anyway,” she lied, hoping to persuade the Doctor to stay put. The Doctor sighed, lowering herself back to the mattress.

“Are you sure?”

Yaz nodded, hoping that what she'd heard really was a trick of the wind. And with the Doctor nearby, she felt safe enough to sleep, and it didn't take her long to return to her dreams despite the frightening interlude.

The Doctor, on the other hand, didn't sleep a wink. She stayed awake, keeping an ear out for any suspicious noises around the camp, determined to keep Yaz safe. And Graham and Ryan, of course, and all of the other people in camp, but Yaz most of all. The Doctor was still musing on this particular observation when a chilling scream rang out.

Yaz shot up in bed, still half asleep.

“What was that?”

The Doctor was already pulling on her boots.

“Stay here, please?” she pleaded, the look in her eyes making Yaz waver. But as soon as she was gone, Yaz jumped out of bed, refusing to let her go out into the night alone.

It was easy to see where the scream had come from, given the number of people gathering outside that particular tent. Yaz breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed Graham and Ryan standing by, as clueless as she was. She waved at them, briefly, before striding confidently over to the tent in question.

The Doctor emerged just as she reached the entrance, obviously surprised to see her.

“Yaz! What happened to staying put?”

“I told you I wasn't leaving you, Doctor. What's going on?”

The Doctor shook her head. “You don't want to know, Yaz. Where are Graham and Ryan?” She looked slightly frantic, Yaz noted with dismay. Whatever had happened was not good.

Yaz pointed them out and the Doctor started walking towards them without another word.

“Right, gang! Safety in numbers from now on. Don't go anywhere by yourself, and be aware of your surroundings at all times.”

It was clear that the Doctor was panicking slightly but also trying very hard not to panic her companions.

“Er...okay, no problem.” Ryan shrugged, still half awake.

“And I think you should move tents.”

“Are you going to fill us in, Doc?” Graham looked over at the other tent warily.

The Doctor ignored him, chivvying the boys along to the tent neighbouring their own. But she couldn't move them quickly enough to avoid the uproar that went up from the few remaining local workers. Yaz turned around in time to see a body – or rather, most of a body - being dragged out into the night air. Ryan must have seen, too, because she heard him retching.

“Oh gosh, I was hoping you weren't going to see that,” the Doctor muttered, and Yaz felt the blood leave her face in a rush.

“Where's his head?” Graham asked, seemingly unperturbed. But even in the low light, Yaz could see that he looked as pale as she felt.

“Great question, Graham. I'm not too sure.”

There was no sleep to be had for the rest of the night.

While the Doctor waited impatiently for dawn, all Yaz could think was of the noise that had followed her to bed that night. Perhaps if she had let the Doctor go out and look...but no, the Doctor might have been hurt, instead. She felt selfish but she was relieved the Doctor was alive and in one piece, and she was determined to make sure she stayed that way.

“Doctor?”

“Yes, Yaz?” The Doctor looked up from the floor, where she was drawing an outline of the tomb in the sand with her index finger. Next to it was the outline of a human body, like a crime scene. The Doctor had drawn in all of the organs with surprising detail given the rudimentary nature of her materials, with a dramatic line drawn through its neck. Yaz poked her head over the edge of the bed, scrutinising the diagrams.

“That noise. D'you think it was related?”

The Doctor pondered this for a moment. “Possibly. But there's no way of knowing for sure, not right now. Why?”

“That could have been one of us. Without a head.”

The Doctor pushed off from the ground, settling herself on the bed next to Yaz, who couldn't help but notice that she was sitting incredibly close. Even though they'd been sharing the bed for a couple of nights now, the proximity never failed to send Yaz into a spin.

“Lucky for us, I don't really need to sleep. I'm on guard duty, and there's no way I'm going to rest until this is solved. It's the least I can do to keep you all safe, especially since I'm making you stick around.”

“You're not making any of us stay, Doctor. Well, except Ryan, but he's never enthusiastic about anything.”

The Doctor had to smile at that. “Still, I want you to know that I'll do everything I can to keep you safe. Even if I think you all should be far away from here.”

“You always keep us safe, Doctor,” Yaz said, quietly. “But who makes sure that you're safe? We're here for a reason. Even Ryan.”

The Doctor ducked her head, unsure of what to say. She never was good at travelling alone, even she would admit it.

“I'm so glad you're here,” she finally replied, searching out Yaz's eyes with her own. Yaz was sure she wasn't imagining things when she felt something pass between them, then. _Was the Doctor talking about her specifically, or about all of them?_ She searched her face for clues, making a determined effort to avoid looking down at her lips. _That was always the challenge_.

At that moment in time, Yaz knew she could say something. Should, even. But her nerve failed her; the fear that she might ruin things between them was too loud to ignore. And the Doctor wasn't saying anything, either, despite giving off so many signals. It was confusing to say the least, especially given how talkative she normally was.

The moment passed without comment.

“So, no sleep for you tonight?” Yaz sighed, and the tension instantly dissipated. As if her strings had been cut, the Doctor's shoulders slumped and she moved back to the floor.

“No rest for the wicked!” she chirped, her tone as upbeat as ever. Yaz couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that she was in bed alone, but she made a show of closing her eyes, pretending to sleep. Despite everything that had happened, and the danger they were in, it was thoughts of the woman who was sitting less than three feet away that kept her awake for the rest of the night. _So close, and yet so far._


	7. Return to the tomb

It turned out that nobody else had slept that night. As Yaz emerged into the early morning light, she could see that even fewer people were milling about than the previous day; the few remaining workers shuffled around like sleep-deprived zombies. She could sense an air of fear that seemed to pervade everything. So, when she spotted Howard Carter with his head in his hands, she wasn't all that surprised. As the Doctor and her companions approached, they could hear snippets of conversation.

“The canopic jars. They're gone,” Carter sighed, exasperated.

 “Gone?” Broome was there, trying to offer moral support. “Maybe just misplaced? Were they catalogued and stored as usual?" 

Carter shook his head.

“Completely disappeared. I have no idea who would have taken them.”

Ryan pulled the Doctor to one side.

“The what?”

The Doctor's eyes lit up, excited to explain. Yaz always enjoyed watching her like this and she listened in to her history lesson with a soft smile. 

“During mummification, embalmers would remove the organs and put them in these jars – canopic jars – so that the deceased could use them in the afterlife.”

“What was it again? Liver, lungs, stomach, guts?” Graham chipped in, his enthusiasm for the topic unabated.

“Got it in one, Graham. And the heart, well, they left the heart in because that's where they thought the soul resided. So they left that one well alone.”

“What about the brain?” Ryan asked, sure he'd heard something odd about Egyptians and brains at some point in his life. 

The Doctor made a face. 

“Well, they didn't think the brain was up to much. So they took it out through your nose.”

“I don't want to know,” Ryan murmured, holding up a hand. “Thanks, Doctor.”

“Any time, Ryan,” she smiled, before walking over to where Carter was sitting.

“Morning, Dr Carter! Everything in order?" 

“Not at all,” he muttered. “Someone has been rifling through the findings and helping themselves! But they didn't take the gold, they took the canopic jars. I just don't understand why.”

“I think I have an idea. Did they take the liver?” 

Carter shook his head.

“They left that one behind. Perhaps they were worried they'd get caught red-handed. Wait, how did you know they didn't take it?” he asked, leaping to his feet. He cast a suspicious glance over at Yaz, Graham, and Ryan, who were hanging back. 

“Just an educated guess,” the Doctor shrugged. “Are you going to go back down there?” She nodded in the general direction of the pit, a half mile away from the camp.

Carter looked uncertain and the Doctor realised he was probably just as scared as everyone else.

“Because I was thinking,” she continued, “that we could take another look.”

“And why on earth would I let you back down there?” Carter asked. “I don't know you, and I don't trust you." 

“Because, Doctor Carter, we are your best hope of getting to the bottom of this.” The Doctor gestured at her companions, trying to keep a level head.

“There is nothing to get to the bottom of,” Carter insisted. “We will resume digging as soon as possible.”

“Hold on just a sec. Two people have died in suspicious circumstances. The culprit is still at large. And I think it has something to do with you opening that tomb.”

“You can't be serious,” Carter scoffed. “Next you'll be telling me that the tomb is cursed, or that Tutankhamun himself is alive and wandering around the camp at night.” 

“Got it in one.” 

Carter started laughing, before realising that the Doctor was entirely serious. His jaw dropped.

“You're mad,” he whispered, taking a step back.

“I prefer eccentric, myself,” the Doctor shrugged, looking back towards her companions. “Come on, gang, we need to get moving.”

She looked back to Carter. 

“Please, don't go down there until we come back. I don't think it's safe.” 

Carter sat down again, lost for words. The Doctor was unperturbed. 

“Great! Let's go!” She smiled straight at Yaz, almost pinning her to the spot with the intensity of it. Ryan had to nudge her into action.

“Bit tired,” she said, and the look on Ryan's face informed her she'd made a poor choice of words.

“Didn't get much sleep.” _Nope, even worse_.

“You're honestly telling me that you got any sleep last night? After what happened?” she clarified quickly.

“I knew the Doctor was next door,” he shrugged. “So how come you didn't get any sleep?” This time, the look in his eyes was sympathetic. Yaz usually thought of him as more of a brother but sometimes, he could be a good friend, too.

Yaz sighed.

“Just too many thoughts,” she admitted. Ryan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick squeeze.

“Don't get too lost in there, alright? Sometimes you just have to act, not think.”

“When did you get so clever?” Yaz laughed, knowing that he had a point. And wondering if he'd somehow seen them through the sides of the tent as they sat on the bed together.

“I spend far too much time with Graham,” Ryan said, and they both looked ahead, to where Graham and the Doctor were discussing the finer details of mummification as they walked. 

Yaz realised that they were nearing the tomb and a feeling of dread settled in her stomach. “Are you not scared?” she asked, grateful that she could be blunt with Ryan. 

“Of course I am, we're going to go back into that creepy tomb! I brought my phone, this time, though.” Ryan grinned as he held his iPhone aloft. “No way I'm getting caught without a torch.”

Yaz belatedly realised she hadn't even thought to bring hers.

“At least one of us has their head screwed on this morning,” she muttered, as they finally caught up with the others. They had made it to the entrance of the pit, and the nervous tension was palpable. _Time for one of the Doctor's pep talks_.

“Right, fam! We stick together. Don't touch anything,” she said, looking at Ryan, who tutted. 

“Alright, alright.”

“If you see or hear anything weird, say something. I don't care how insignificant it seems. We have to look after each other.”

Without another word, she marched down into the pit. _Show time_.

\---------- 

The tomb had been a bit creepy the first time around, but this time – even knowing what to expect – it was borderline terrifying. Thankfully, some torches were lit, and Yaz wondered who had ventured down there to light them given that there were hardly any people at camp, and certainly nobody with them in the tomb. Or at least, she hoped not.

In the dim light, every sound was amplified. When Ryan inevitably knocked something over, Yaz nearly jumped out of her skin. 

“Bloody hell, Ryan. You're going to give me a heart attack.” Yaz could see Graham clutching his chest dramatically and let out a nervous laugh. 

“Come on, there's a path down here,” the Doctor gestured, waiting for their little huddle to regroup before proceeding. 

The new route took them into a different chamber, this time with no light at all. The air was even more fetid, undisturbed, and Yaz shivered.

Ryan quickly turned on his torch and she was relieved for the miniscule amount of light. It was a bit creepy, though, the way that it cast shadows over everything. Instinctively, she moved closer to Ryan and the light.

Up ahead, Graham had moved closer to the Doctor, whose sonic was brightening the room.

“What are we looking for, Doc? It's pitch black in here.”

“We're looking for the sarcophagus,” the Doctor murmured, and Yaz could almost picture her face as she scrutinised the gloom.

That was as much as Yaz heard because, at that point, Ryan must have nudged something. His phone flew out of his hand, taking the light with it. Yaz wasn't sure precisely what he'd touched, but it seemed to trigger some kind of mechanism because there was the heavy sound of stone moving, and suddenly the floor disappeared from beneath their feet. It was like being on a horrific rollercoaster, and her stomach leapt into her throat as they fell straight downwards, through the dark.

The last thing she heard was the Doctor shouting her name, and then she knew no more.


	8. King Tut

The throbbing in her head woke Yaz up.

At least, she thought she was awake. The pain was the only indication, given that she was completely in the dark. She was relieved to note that she had stopped falling, but that was the only positive outcome she could determine at that particular point in time.

Once she recalled falling, she also realised precisely where she was.

“Ryan?” she called out, hating how her voice trembled. All she heard was the sound of her own voice echoing back at her.

\----------

Ryan, on the other hand, had actually managed to cling onto something to stop his fall. When the Doctor's face popped over the edge, he shouted, realising she was about to step on his fingertips and loosen his grip on the edge.

“Doctor! I'm hanging on, here.” He grunted as he swung his legs, trying to get momentum to push himself up.

“Ryan! Where's Yaz?” The Doctor bent down, squinting into the darkness, looking extremely concerned.

“Dunno,” he said, feeling guilty that he was still there and she wasn't. He had no idea what had happened to her in the chaos.

“Hang on, son, we'll get you up.” Suddenly, Graham was there, reaching down to grab onto the back of his shirt. Ryan relaxed slightly at the safe hold. His palms were starting to slide on the sandy floor and he was really quite keen to get back on his feet. Right now, they were dangling into goodness knew what.

“Think you can let go and grab the Doctor's hand?” Graham looked to his left. The Doctor was spaced out, staring down into the darkness.

“Doc? Want to give Ryan a hand?”

She shook herself, reaching out to let Ryan grab onto her, and together they pulled him out of the hole.

Instantly, she was back at the edge, calling out for Yaz and slumping in dismay at the echo that returned. Ryan retrieved his phone, using the torch to shine light into where Yaz had fallen. There was no sign of her.

“What happened?” the Doctor said, turning to Ryan. The look on her face was one that Ryan had never seen before, and he wasn't sure he'd want to see it again. It was stormy, to say the least.

Before Ryan could answer, Graham piped up.

“Think there was a trip or a switch somewhere. Look.” He was pointing at the sides of the pit Yaz had fallen into. “There are hinges. A trapdoor.”

The Doctor pursed her lips. “Of course. The warning.”

Graham and Ryan looked at one another.

“What warning?”

“When we first came in here, there was a warning on the wall. Something about keeping the tomb hidden, or protected. I thought it was to deter grave robbers, to keep people out. But I'm not so sure it wasn't to keep someone, or something, in.”

“Well, now that I'm well and truly scared, Doc, what are we going to do? We need to find Yaz.”

“Don't you think I know that?” she half-shouted, exasperated. “She's down there, somewhere. Who knows if she's even alive?”

“Hey, easy, Doc.” Graham sensed that her irritation was as much at herself as it was with Ryan, who kept a wary distance. Graham didn't let her mood faze him.

“We'll find her. Together.”

She shook her head violently.

“No. Get out of here, get above ground to safety and let me fix this.” She sounded almost angry, her face stony with anxiety.

“Not going to let you do that alone,” Graham insisted. “She's as much our friend as she is yours, you know.”

“Yeah,” Ryan chipped in. “It's my fault she fell down there, and all.”

The Doctor sighed, finally realising she was being stubborn. Her features softened, returning to something they were more familiar with. 

“Not your fault, Ryan,” she said, apologetically. “It's just...I can't stand the thought of Yaz down there alone.”

The look of sympathy on Graham's face only made things worse.

\----------

“Doctor?” Yaz called, starting to get desperate. She could feel something in the dark with her, and she was pretty sure it wasn't a figment of her imagination. Yaz held her breath, listening. There it was again. A very, very slight _wheeze._

She scrambled to her feet, reaching out with her hands to avoid hitting anything. Being upright so suddenly made her head spin, and she tried to focus as the blood roared in her ears, threatening to send her back to the floor. Thankfully, the moment passed, but she was unsure whether the lightness at the edge of her vision was a consequence of the headrush or if there was actually light. The only choice she had seemed to be to move towards it. She turned, facing it head on, and shuffled forward carefully.

Only as she got closer did she realise that she had indeed found light. _But I'm further underground than before. Surely this isn't possible?_

As she edged closer, Yaz was sure she could hear breathing. It was subtle, overlaid with her own, but it seemed to fill the space around her ears, and it drew her to the room like a moth to a flame. She felt the fear leave her and she moved on auto-pilot, somehow knowing that the answer was waiting for her at the end of the corridor. She forgot where she was, who she was, even who she was with – all that mattered was that she had nearly arrived at her destination.

Before she could enter the room, she heard her name. It was like a whisper, one that went straight through her and into her very soul.

_Yasmin Khan._

She kept moving forwards, knowing there was nowhere else she could go but onwards. As she turned the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks, completely thrown by who was there.

Charlie Broome was standing in the centre of the room, smiling at her as if he'd been waiting for her this whole time. Perhaps he had. Behind him, in a throne that looked to be made of pure gold, was the shrunken, shrivelled body of who, she presumed, was Tutankhamun. He was only just visible behind Broome; Yaz was quite happy that she couldn't see too much of him, because what she could see turned her stomach.

When he spoke, this time, it was through the man in front of him.

“Yasmin Khan.” The voice sounded more real this time, more human.

“What are you doing here?” Yaz kept her eyes focused on Broome. The smile was unnerving but at least it was slightly easier to look him in the eye than the mummy behind him. The mummy that didn't seem to have any eyes whatsoever.

“I needed the aid of a stronger person,” he said, and Yaz realised he was merely serving as a vessel for the being behind him. She hesitated to think of it as human.

“What for?” she asked, feeling like she already knew the answer. She kept her distance, trying to suss out the room they were in. Behind the throne was a sarcophagus, one that looked identical to ones she'd seen in the British Museum. Yaz realised this was where the mummy had been buried, and that she had found the centre of operations, as it were.

“I did not proceed to the afterlife. Osiris refused me entry.”

“I wonder why,” Yaz muttered.

“I lacked a heart,” Tutankhamun continued, ignoring her. “And without a heart, there was no way of determining how good or evil I was."

“I'd go for evil, mate.” Yaz sounded more confident than she felt, and she gave herself a mental pat on the back. The Doctor would have been proud. The thought of the Doctor filled her with courage and determination to get out of this situation in one piece. But her relief was short-lived when Broome started chuckling, a sound that should have been reassuring.

“Ah, but I have a slave to help me, now. I have a fresh liver, and I have a wonderful, wonderful brain. And now, I have lungs.” Broome gestured to the smashed canopic jars on the floor. 

Yaz realised too late that by focusing on the friendly face of the archaeologist, she'd lost track of what the pharaoh was doing. The whispering voice was back, and this time, it came from immediately behind her.

“All I need now is a heart.”

 ----------

“Come on, come on, think!” The Doctor seemed to be talking to herself as she paced the room, making Ryan dizzy.

“How far do you think this goes?” Graham said, looking for something to drop down the hole in the floor.

“It felt pretty draughty,” Ryan said, using his torch to inspect every nook and cranny of the room. Carefully. He didn't want to set off any more traps and piss the Doctor off even more.

“I knew I should have brought rope,” the Doctor muttered, still pacing. “Draughty....draughty. Hang on,” she said, dashing back down the hallway. She returned moments later with a lit torch, the flames nearly extinguishing themselves in her hurry.

She paced the room slowly, holding the flame as close as she dared to the plaster, examining the cracks in the wall.

“What-”

“Shh!” The Doctor glared at Ryan.

“Think she's looking for a hidden door,” Graham whispered, watching as the flame flickered.

“Gotcha,” the Doctor whispered, running her hand carefully over the wall. Her fingers found a depression and pushed without a second thought, anxiety making her reckless.

To their collective relief, the floor did not give way. Instead the stone wall separated, allowing just enough space to squeeze through.

“Come on, let's see where this takes us,” the Doctor urged, picking up the torch again and holding it aloft as they proceeded further into the depths of the tomb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help myself, another double update! I think we're nearing the end now, though, sad times. 
> 
> A big, big thank you to those loyal readers who have literally read and commented on every chapter, thank you so much! This is for you :)


	9. Two hearts are better than one

“I think I hear something,” the Doctor said, stopping in her tracks. Ryan nearly walked into the back of her, stopping himself just in time. They had reached a crossroads, and no option looked particularly appealing.

They were silent for a long moment. Ryan and Graham looked at each other, hearing nothing, but they knew the Doctor's hearing was scarily good.

“This way,” she said, marching off to the right. They seemed to have stumbled upon a maze of tunnels, and Graham started to wonder if they should have left a trail of breadcrumbs so they could get out again. He had a feeling that the Doctor would know exactly where she was going, and had complete faith that she would get them out easily. But still, he found himself reaching for the paperback he carried for long journeys, tearing out the occasional page and leaving them as they went. _Just in case._

Ryan adjusted his hold on his phone. His palms were perspiring from fear and also because things were starting to get a bit warm. It felt like they were reaching the heart of the tomb, judging by the staleness of the air, and the claustrophobia was getting to him. But he was also worried about Yaz, and how long she'd been missing. He had complete faith that the Doctor would find her, and let that assuage his fears as best he could.

“Not much closer, guys,” the Doctor whispered, bravely leading the way. “And once we find Yaz, we're getting out of here.”

After a few more minutes, Ryan and Graham could start to hear voices, too. Or rather, the tone of voices. They could hear a low rumble, followed by a higher pitched reply. Yaz. It had to be. The Doctor held out her arms, sensing her companions would want to rush forward.

“Hang on, hang on. When we get close, I want you to stay behind me. Stay out of sight. Who knows what's in there with Yaz? Stay hidden until I let you know it's safe, okay?”

Ryan could just about make out her face in the gloom, but her expression was one of steely determination. He wasn't about to disagree with that.

\----------

Yaz was becoming sick and tired of getting knocked out. Her head really was banging this time, and she could feel something sticky on the side of her face. No doubt it was blood. But when she raised a hand to check, she realised she couldn't move. She tried again, looking downwards to see what was happening, only to see that she was essentially tied to some kind of table. Better than the ground, but also somehow more ominous.

“Ah! You're awake,” Broome crooned, suddenly hovering over her head. He sounded more like himself, and yet, he was still there. Yaz reckoned she would have run a mile in his shoes. Something was not right.

“Why are you helping him?” she mumbled, barely able to look around the room for any sign of the mummy. He was nowhere to be seen.

“Don't you realise how old he is?” Broome asked, and even half conscious, Yaz could sense his tone was patronising. “He was buried more than 3000 years ago. 3000 years! Imagine coming back to life after 3000 years.”

“Yeah but look at him,” Yaz shuddered as best she could given the restraints. She felt a bit out of it, woozy and light-headed.

“I wouldn't care what I looked like if I could live forever,” Broome said, and despite the concussion, Yaz could see a dangerous glint in his eyes. The man was clearly mad.

Sensing that there was no reasoning with him, Yaz tried a different tack.

“So, what's the plan? You take my heart, give it to him, and he gives you eternal life?” The words were hard, but she enunciated them as best she could.

_Precisely._

The voice came from the shadows and Yaz turned her head sharply, regretting the move when it made the room spin.

Tutankhamun emerged, looking a bit juicier than he had previously. Yaz's heart sank. He seemed more corporeal than before, although he was still lacking eyes. She absently wondered how on earth he could see where he was going.

“Yeah, well...” she faltered. “You're going to make my friend very angry. I wouldn't want to be on her bad side.”

Broome laughed. “The Doctor? I don't think any woman is a match for King Tutankhamun.”

“You haven't met this woman,” Yaz insisted, determined not to let fear win. It didn't help that Broome had produced a ceremonial dagger, the gold glinting in the low light.

She could only watch as he started to raise it above her chest, apparently aiming for the side of her heart.

“Now, don't move – this won't hurt. Well, it will, but you won't be alive to feel it for very long,” Broome shrugged, and Yaz gasped as she felt the tip of the blade touch her skin. He was obviously marking out where to cut.

This was the moment when Yaz expected her life to pass before her eyes, or to suddenly gain superhuman strength and push herself off the table. But none of those things happened. Instead, she felt tears in her eyes as she realised this was the end of the line. It didn't seem fair, and she was even more saddened by the fact that she would never see the Doctor again. She closed her eyes, unwilling to watch, as her heartbeat thundered in her ears. A heartbeat that wouldn't exist for much longer.

Except – there was a voice. A familiar voice, piercing through the chaos inside her head.

“OI!”

Yaz gasped, opening her eyes as she felt the pressure of the blade abate. Broome was still there, dagger in hand, but he looked as shocked as she felt at the interruption.

“What on earth are you doing?”

Yaz tried to raise her head, to confirm that she wasn't hearing things and that the Doctor was actually in the room. It all felt like a strange dream.

“Doctor?” she mumbled, trying to move her arms and forgetting they were tied down.

“Yaz, you're okay. I'm here.” The Doctor looked at her briefly, worry clear in her eyes. She was standing by the entrance to the room, flaming torch in hand, keeping a wary distance.

“Trust you to spoil things,” Broome spat, taking a step back from the table. The Doctor took a step forward.

“Yeah, well, correct me if I'm wrong here but I think my friend would rather keep her organs if it's all the same to you.” The Doctor took another cautious step forward.

She clearly wasn't prepared for the sound of another voice because she dropped the torch in shock.

_But she was so willing to give us her heart._

The Doctor recovered quickly, trying to figure out where the voice had come from.

“That's Yaz for you. Very generous. But you know what? If you want a heart, I have two.”

Yaz shook her head, ignoring the pain, desperately trying to get out of her restraints.

“Doctor, what are you doing?”

The Doctor looked at her, unafraid. “I'm getting you out of here, Yaz. Graham and Ryan are right outside and they'll take you back to safety.”

She turned back to the room, ignoring Broome as she tried to pinpoint the other presence.

“Tutankhamun, am I right? Mind if I call you King Tut? Less of a mouthful.” She backed up to the table, surreptitiously sliding her sonic into Yaz's jean pocket. Yaz had no idea what she was planning, but just having it gave her confidence that she could help get them out of there.

_Call me what you wish. What am I to call you?_

“You can call me the Doctor. And right now, I want to see if my friend is alright. Can you let me do that? Then you can have my heart.”

 _As you wish_.

Yaz could feel the Doctor loosening her binds with careful fingertips, before bringing her hands up to cradle her face. Yaz looked up, her terror easing as she gazed into the soft green eyes above her.

“Hey, you,” the Doctor murmured, grimacing as she noticed the sluggishly bleeding wound in Yaz's hairline. “What have they done to you? My wonderful Yaz.”

“I'm alright,” Yaz replied. “Now that you're here.”

“Can you sit up?” The Doctor wanted nothing more than to wrap Yaz in her arms but they were still in danger. Her first priority was to get her companion out of there. She settled for a careful arm around Yaz's back, supporting her as she got upright.

When Yaz pulled her into a proper hug, though, she couldn't deny the comfort it offered.

“Doctor, we need to talk when we get out of here.”

Yaz was gazing up at her in a way that made her hearts melt a little. It might have been the adrenaline, or the fear, but the Doctor felt like someone had thrown cold water over her. She realised with startling clarity that she had been completely, actively, ignoring her feelings for Yaz. And she didn't want to ignore them any longer.

“Yaz, I-”

She stopped, jerking forward slightly.

“What's wrong?”

“I'm sorry, Yaz.” The Doctor's voice sounded odd. Strained. A trickle of blood emerged from her mouth, running down to her chin, unheeded.

Yaz's eyes widened in surprise.

“Doctor?”

The Doctor glanced down to see the tip of a blade emerging from her chest. The look of shock on her face would have been comical if the situation wasn't so dire. When Yaz saw the knife, she screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY.


	10. Escape

Behind the Doctor, Broome laughed. The sound made Yaz see red, but she was far too focused on the problem that had just presented itself to give him a second thought. Distantly, she heard the sound of footsteps running towards them, but she also paid them no mind, knowing that help was on the way. Her attention was completely focused on the Doctor, who wobbled on her feet as crimson started blooming on her shirt. She kept staring at Yaz, mouth opening in shock but no sound emerging.

“Sorry, did I interrupt something? Time is ticking, you know. Places to go, people to see.” Broome withdrew the knife viciously. Yaz's gasp echoed the Doctor's, and she instinctively held out her hands, pre-empting collapse. Then Ryan was at her side, helping her bear the weight of the Doctor's body as they helped ease her to the floor. Yaz could have cried with relief. She found herself on the floor with the Doctor, wincing as she felt the warmth of fresh blood coat her hands. As much as she had wanted to get closer to the other woman, the feel of her blood on her hands felt far too intimate. Unnatural.

“What happened?” Ryan asked, clearly shocked by the sight that greeted him as he squatted beside them. Yaz couldn't handle the question, focusing on the Doctor instead. _There was no way this could be happening_.

“Doctor, Doctor, stay with me,” she pleaded, pressing hard on the wound. Tears sprang to her eyes as the Doctor complained at the pressure.

“Ouch,” she grumbled, eyes sliding shut.

Yaz bit out a choked laugh. “You get stabbed in the chest and your best comeback is 'ouch'?” With her free hand, she caressed the Doctor's cheek, trying to keep her awake. “Look at me, Doctor.”

Familiar warm eyes fixed on her own and Yaz felt the air leave her lungs in a rush.

“That's it. Keep talking to me.” Yaz bit her lip as she tried to keep her emotions in check. She felt like she was going to pass out, the throbbing in her head getting worse as she tried to stop the Doctor bleeding all over the floor.

The Doctor groaned as she shifted. “I'm going to feel this one tomorrow. Good thing he's got rubbish aim.”

“Good thing I don't,” said Graham, choosing his moment to walk up to Broome and punch him square in the jaw. Yaz winced at the audible smack and took great pleasure in seeing the smug look get wiped off Broome's face. He had dropped the knife, holding a hand to his mouth, in shock at the arrival of yet more people, including someone he had thought of as a friend.

“How is she?” Graham asked, turning to the Doctor and dropping to his knees beside her.

“'m fine, Graham. Just a scratch,” the Doctor muttered. “And I'm taking points from you for violence.”

“I can live with that, Doc,” Graham said, flexing his fingers. He was a bit out of practice at fighting, but instinct had taken over.

“Er, guys? Who's that?”

Ryan had got to his feet, hovering over them protectively.

“That'll be King Tut, I imagine,” the Doctor mumbled, her head lolling as she tried to look.

“Shh, Doctor. Save your strength.” Yaz found herself protecting the Doctor with her own body, doing something the Doctor had always done for them. It came naturally to her, and filled her with courage. _They would get out of this, no matter what. They had to._

As Tutankhamun emerged from the shadows, she finally saw the stone he had in place of a heart. It looked almost real, and Yaz noticed it was actually vibrating like it was beating. It seemed to be keeping him alive, despite being inorganic, and Yaz found herself wondering if she was looking at some kind of alien technology. It was oddly beautiful, but she felt sick at the thought of the Doctor's real-life heart replacing it. The Doctor seemed to have noticed it too, and Yaz could almost see the cogs turning as she squinted at the strange device.

“I should never have trusted a mere mortal to do my bidding. Perhaps I should have used your heart, instead,” the pharaoh hissed, rounding on Broome, who was still on the floor. Broome scrambled backwards, trying to put some distance between them, and whimpering when his back met the wall. Ryan watched warily, trying to protect his friends and wondering how this was going to pan out. If he was honest, he wouldn't have minded if Broome got his come-uppance, even if it was at the hands of some half-dead mummy. He still had to mentally pinch himself to believe he was in a room with a walking, talking Tutankhamun.

Yaz felt cool hands patting her own as it pushed down on the Doctor's chest.

“Sonic.”

Yaz reached with her free hand for her jeans pocket, feeling the reassuring shape of the sonic screwdriver.

“Pass it here,” the Doctor muttered, “and give me a hand up?”

Yaz frowned.

“No way! You need to stay still or you'll lose even more blood.”

“Trust me, Yaz? I promise, I'll be fine.” The Doctor's face was now a pale shade of grey thanks to the blood loss, but the look in her eyes gave Yaz pause. Realising she wasn't going to win this particular battle of wills, Yaz nudged Graham, mouthing at him to help get the Doctor upright. Judging by his catalogue of facial expressions he went through a similar train of thought, but ultimately they got the Doctor on her feet, propping her up unsteadily between them.

“Hate to disturb you, lads,” she said, speaking so normally that Yaz did a double-take. “But I think we could come to some kind of resolution, here.”

Tutankhamun made a noise then that reverberated in the chamber and inside Yaz's very bones. It was a terrifying noise, and it took her a few moments to realise that he was actually laughing.

“Oh? And what might that be?”

“If you'll pardon the pun, I think I'll just get to the heart of the matter. Running out of time,” the Doctor winced in pain as she sagged in Yaz's hold.

Yaz could sense the look of confusion that passed over the pharaoh's face – or what was left of it – as the Doctor raised her sonic high into the air. Her arm was trembling with the strain, but her voice was strong. Confident. Yaz realised it was precisely _this_ that she loved about the Doctor. She was one of the bravest people she had ever met.

“That heart of yours looks pretty fragile, wouldn't you say? Think it can withstand a sonic blast?” Without giving him the chance to respond, the Doctor activated the sonic, filling the chamber with a sound so high-pitched and loud that Yaz almost dropped the Doctor in a bid to cover her own ears. The noise reverberated throughout her ribcage and made the skin on her bare arms tingle with the vibrations.

Thankfully it didn't take long for the waves to stop the pharaoh's so-called heart dead. He stood stock still, jaw dropping like it was unhinged, before his knees bent inwards and the stone fell out of his chest, hitting the ground with a satisfying thud. Whatever life had filled him seemed to depart, instantly, and the terrifying presence became just a shambles of skin and bone. She felt the Doctor sigh in relief as the remains collapsed to the floor, lifeless. It was all rather anti-climactic, in the end.

As soon as the heart fell to the ground, Ryan ran up and kicked it straight into the nearest wall, instantly shattering it into tiny pieces.

“Ryan!” The Doctor scolded, although her reprimand was rather half-hearted.

“What? That thing caused nothing but trouble.”

“You have a point, but now we'll never know what it was. There was no way it was a simple chunk of stone.”

“Alien tech, right?” Yaz supplied, grunting as she hoisted the Doctor upwards. The weight she was bearing was starting to get heavier.

“Ten points to you, Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor beamed at her stupidly, then slumped in exhaustion.

“Right, Doc, home with you,” Graham urged, nodding towards the doorway. “Luckily for us, I made a paper trail.”

“Ten points to Graham O'Brien!” the Doctor exclaimed, lifting her head excitedly, before hissing in pain at the movement. “Home sounds just wonderful right about now. I could do with a nap.”

“I think you'll need more than a nap, Doctor,” Yaz murmured, guiding her carefully towards the doorway.

They almost forgot about Broome, until they heard his very plaintive cry for attention as they passed the threshold.

“But what about me?” Glancing backwards, Yaz could see that he seemed truly sorry for himself, but she found she had absolutely no sympathy for the man. It was strange, actively hating somebody; it wasn't a feeling she was used to, but she embraced it easily when she felt the stickiness of freshly dried blood on her hands. She continued to walk the Doctor out, not sparing him a second thought.

Ryan looked back at him in disdain, the last to leave.

“You get to stay here. You seem to like this place enough,” he gestured around them. “Don't even think about following us.” He picked up the Doctor's abandoned torch from the floor, leaving the other man with even less light. Sure enough, as they made their way out of the tomb, he made sure to collect the pages Graham had left to mark their route. He was sure Broome would find his way out.

Eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh you guys, I'm sorry! I didn't want to leave you hanging for too long. I hope the angst was worth it, because the glorious comfort is coming up very soon :)


	11. A camel ride

"Wait....wait,” the Doctor said, lurching drunkenly. “We can't leave the mummy like that! Carter still has to find him, technically speaking, or we'll have mucked things around too much.”

"You're joking,” Ryan said, but realising with a sinking feeling that she was speaking the truth. They couldn't change the course of history, as the Doctor always reminded them.  _No interfering_. 

“I wish I was joking, Ryan.” She looked at him apologetically, wishing she could take care of it herself. But she was obviously incapacitated, and Ryan couldn't really deny the Doctor anything when she looked at him the way she did now. Especially when she was covered in her own blood.

“Okay, okay," he sighed. "But I'll need some help.”

Yaz chipped in.

“If you don't mind, I think I want to get the Doctor out of here. My head is killing me and all.” She smiled sympathetically at Ryan, then Graham, whom she knew she had just volunteered for the task.

“Alright,” Graham sighed, relinquishing his hold on the Doctor's arm. “Look after each other, please?”

Yaz nodded, shifting so she could get a better grip on the Doctor. She wasn't lying; her head really was screaming bloody murder.

“So, just pop him back in the sarcophagus, right, Doc?” Graham asked, mentally preparing himself for the unenviable task.

“That should do the trick,” the Doctor nodded, thanking them as they headed back to the depths of the tomb.

As soon as they left, she slumped to the floor so fast that Yaz could do nothing but help ease her down.

“Whoah, what's happening?” Yaz tried not to panic at the thought of being left alone with a bleeding Doctor in a dimly lit ancient tomb, after nearly being murdered by a resurrected pharaoh. Life really had taken an interesting turn in recent months.

The Doctor slumped back against the wall. “Just need a minute, and I'll be right with you.”

“I could do with a breather myself,” Yaz admitted, sitting next to her against the wall. Their shoulders touched, and the simple contact was immensely comforting.

“Are you alright?” the Doctor asked, wide-eyed with concern.

“Me? I'm fine, Doctor. It's you that I'm worried about.”

“Tsk, this?" She waved a hand at the bloody wound on her chest. "This is nothing. I would rather this than see you ever come to harm.”

"Let me see? I doubt it's nothing." The Doctor tensed but let Yaz check the injury, turning her head away when she carefully eased the sodden fabric away from the wound. 

Yaz had seen her share of stab wounds at work and knew they could look deceptively harmless. But this one...this one looked as bad as it should have. She felt a bit sick.

"I have no idea how you're still breathing right now," she muttered, wondering how on earth she was going to get the Doctor back to the TARDIS. It was still a fair walk away and she was pretty sure nobody with a wound like that should be walking at all, alien healing capabilities or not. 

"And don't tell me it's because of your superior physiology, because I know that must hurt."

The Doctor looked suitably chastened. "Regardless," she replied, glossing over the fact that it did indeed hurt like blazes, “it was my fault you were down there, my fault you were in danger, Yaz. And I hate it.” She sounded so despondent that Yaz felt a wave of sympathy pass over her.

“Hey, none of that now,” she hushed. “You saved me. I know that you can heal better than we can, but it doesn't avoid the fact that you put yourself in harm's way. For me. So thank you, for being you, is what I'm trying to say. I don't think I'd be here otherwise." 

Yaz wondered if the Doctor would read into that particular statement because she really did mean it on several different levels. She couldn't imagine travelling with anybody but the wonderful woman beside her. 

Sensing that her words weren't working as intended, she reached out for one of the Doctor's hands and tried to convey her sincerity through touch. The Doctor squeezed back instantly. It was the first time they had properly held hands, and Yaz marvelled at how nice it felt, despite the congealed blood between their fingers. She wondered how it would feel on a normal day, when they weren't in mortal danger, just holding hands because it felt good. Because they could. Because they wanted to. 

“Did you know that holding hands is good for your heart?”

Yaz downright giggled at the change in conversation topic, surprised at the noise that came out of her mouth. 

“What?”

“I'm dead serious, Yaz. It's good for your brain, too. Relieves stress and releases all of these wonderful hormones you humans have, like oxytocin.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Oxytocin is a great molecule. Hugs, they release it too, and se- er...well, er, other things.” Yaz could have sworn the Doctor was blushing as she trailed off. It was unusual for her to stop mid-ramble.

“I think I want to hold your hand all the time, Yaz,” the Doctor continued, wincing as she turned to face her fully. “It makes me feel...happy. Really, really happy.” 

Yaz slumped further against the wall. She was very glad she was sitting down. Perhaps she'd taken a harder knock to the head than she'd realised, but even if this did turn out to be some fantastic hallucination, she figured she may as well embrace it. She bit back her first reaction, which was to dismiss the Doctor's sentiment as a result of blood loss. Instead, she decided to be honest.  _Screw the consequences_.

“It makes me happy, too, Doctor. You know, you can hold my hand whenever you like. I wouldn't mind.” The conversation had taken a turn Yaz hadn't expected but it was a pleasant surprise, one that ended prematurely when Graham and Ryan returned from their task.

“What happened to getting out of here, eh?” Graham said, eyeing them both with concern.

“I think that was just a fib to get out of the heavy lifting,” Ryan joked, offering Yaz a hand up while Graham did the same for the Doctor.

“Just needed a moment,” Yaz said.  _And what a moment it had been._  The Doctor refused to let go of her hand the entire walk back to civilisation.

\----------

Howard Carter was displeased to say the least when he finally saw them emerge from the tomb. He was standing at the entrance, hands on his hips, waiting impatiently for the all-clear. But his displeasure soon turned to surprise when he saw how dishevelled the Doctor and her friends were. 

“What happened?"

"Just a minor mishap. Your friend Charlie knows more," the Doctor grumbled. She was very ready to get back to the TARDIS. She apologised to Yaz as she stumbled again, nearly pulling them both down.

"Oh? Is that where he went? He disappeared not long after you left. Please, sit down before you fall down," he said, gesturing to a nearby camp bed. It looked oh so appealing but the Doctor knew they'd never make it back to the TARDIS if she fell asleep there. She shook her head.

"Yeah, he, er...found something down there," Graham added. "He was still there when we left." That wasn't strictly true - there had been no sign of him in the burial chamber when he and Ryan had returned to restore the body. But Graham had no doubt that a character as conniving as Broome would re-emerge. People like that always did. 

Carter's eyes lit up, despite the circumstances. 

"And it's...safe...to go down there?" He eyed the Doctor's bloody shirt. Graham shrugged, looking to the Doctor, who seemed utterly exhausted.

"As safe as it can be, I'd say. Look, I don't mean to be rude, but as you can see, my friends need to get home. Can you help us?" 

Carter was distractedly digging out his tools, barely listening to Graham.

"Hmm? What's that?"

"We need some help. You know, getting back home?" Ryan interjected. 

"Oh, yes, yes. Best get that wound seen to, I would say." He nodded towards the Doctor. "I suppose the quickest way to get around would be by camel," he suggested. "Why don't you borrow some of those?"

Yaz looked at him like he'd lost the plot. How on earth was the Doctor going to get on, and stay on, a camel?

 "That'll do nicely, thank you," said the Doctor, surprising all of them. "And best of luck to you down there. You might want to take a couple of people with you. You know. Just in case."

Carter frowned, looking at Yaz's blood-stained face. 

"Yes...yes, I think I might. Thank you, Doctor. I wish you a speedy recovery."

"Is he not scared?" Ryan asked as they walked away. 

"If he has any sense, he will be. But he's been working at this for too long to let fear get in the way. It's kind of admirable in a stubborn way, I suppose," the Doctor said, eyes lighting up when they landed on the huddle of camels that were to be their mode of onward transport. 

"Anyone ridden one of these before?"

\-----------

It turned out they were all novices at camel riding, even the Doctor. But the animals proved to be surprisingly well behaved, waiting until their passengers were seated before lurching upwards. As soon as Yaz saw Ryan rocket up, she realised there was no way the Doctor could sit on one alone. 

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Yaz?"

"I don't think you should ride one of these by yourself. You might fall off."

The Doctor had to agree as she watched Graham shoot up next, letting out a shout of surprise at his sudden increase in height.

"You might have a point. Okay then, shall we share?" 

Yaz's heart did a little pitter patter at the thought of them being so close. She nodded, nudging the Doctor towards the most docile-looking dromedary. 

She held onto the reigns as she helped the Doctor swing a leg over, passing her the ropes as she hopped on behind her as quickly as she could. It was a tight squeeze, but even so, she was still worried that the Doctor would fall off. She wrapped her arms carefully around the Doctor's waist, anticipating the sudden movement of the camel standing up. 

"Whoa." The Doctor, on the other hand, was taken by surprise by the camel's movent, her hands instinctively coming to rest on Yaz's.

After some manoeuvring, they managed to follow the others. Ryan seemed to be a natural at guiding a camel.  _Who knew_. 

"What about a game of I Spy?" The Doctor suggested, to a chorus of 'no's. 

"There's nothing here, Doctor!" 

"There's always something to look at, Ryan. Like...well, like that rock over there!"

Yaz was far too distracted by the press of their bodies and the smell of the Doctor's hair to even try and join in. She enjoyed the strange sensation of feeling the Doctor talk, her words vibrating gently through both of their bodies. Yaz rested her chin on the Doctor's shoulder, mindful of her injury, and found herself wondering how she had ended up here. All things considered, she realised she didn't want to be anywhere else at that exact moment. And the time was fast approaching when she really, really had to do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sense this coming to an end and I am slightly gutted. It's a weird relationship writing stuff like this - it kind of dominates your thoughts for days and then when it's gone, you actually get some of your life back but you also miss it so much. I have no idea what I will write next (if you have any ideas or suggestions, hit me up!) - I do know that I need to catch up on some wonderful fics in this fandom so if you have any recs, please do also hit me up! I'm on Tumblr as maglex 🙂


	12. A shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am a complete sucker for hurt/comfort. So there will be at least one more chapter!

Yaz hissed in pain as Graham gently cleaned away the blood from her forehead.

“Sorry, love.”

“S'alright. Feels better already,” Yaz lied. She fidgeted as she sat, trying to stay still for Graham but really quite keen to see how the Doctor was faring.

As soon as they'd got back to the TARDIS – to a holler of relief from Ryan, she'd never seen him look so happy – the Doctor had insisted that Graham look after Yaz, thrusting a first aid kit into his hands as she moved herself around the console, keen to depart and get them to safety.

“I'll be right with you!” she had said, nudging the pair of them down the corridor. Yaz had heard her dismissing Ryan's concerns with equal vigour.

“I'll sort myself out in a jiffy, Ryan, don't worry. Take a moment to relax and let me get us out of here.”

That had been about fifteen minutes ago, and Yaz was certain they should have seen the Doctor by now. She could tell they were on the move, had departed from the Valley of the Kings, and yet the Doctor was nowhere to be seen.

Graham clapped his hands together as he discarded the bloody cotton. The sound jerked Yaz out of her thoughts, and she belatedly realised he'd finished cleaning up her face.

“I don't think you'll need stitches, the bleeding has stopped already.”

Yaz nodded, distracted.

“Yeah...always looks worse than it is.” She got to her feet, still a little shaky, and ignored Graham's protests to stay still. She had to find the Doctor as a matter of urgency.

“I'll just make everyone some tea, then,” Graham said to the empty room. He knew better than to interfere with whatever was going on between Yaz and the Doctor. Even within their small group, they had a special relationship, a unique friendship that Graham had to respect. He and Ryan had a similar bond, because they were family.

But whatever existed between the two women was different. Even an observer like Graham could sense it, and could see how special it was. As he watched Yaz depart, he realised that nothing he could have said would keep her away from the Doctor.

\----------

“Doctor?”

Yaz's voice echoed as she wandered down the hallways of the TARDIS. She'd looked in the console room, but the Doctor had disappeared into thin air. So she'd chosen a route at random, looking for clues as to the Doctor's whereabouts. She got lucky when she found blood marking the route. _Not a good sign._

Random smears and spots of it led Yaz towards what she presumed must be the Doctor's bedroom. The door was ajar, a bloody handprint on it doing nothing to assuage Yaz's fears that all was not well. She held her breath as she pushed the door, ignoring the propriety of knocking in favour of ascertaining that the Doctor was alright.

“Doctor? Are you in here?” Yaz felt like she already knew the answer; really, she just wanted to hear the reassuring sound of the Doctor's voice. The lights were off, giving her a flashback to being inside the tomb, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

“Could do with some light in here,” she muttered, and as if by magic the lights came on slowly. The TARDIS seemed to have heard her plea and turned the dimmer switch up.

Yaz looked upwards. “Thanks,” she murmured, smiling at the gentle hum she received in response. It seemed the TARDIS was just as worried as she was.

There was a low moan then, from what Yaz had to assume was the bathroom.

“Doctor?” she called out, warning her of her presence.

She gasped as she entered the room. The Doctor was lying on the floor, eyes screwed shut, her head and shoulders propped up against the edge of a bathtub. Yaz fell to her knees beside her, almost slipping in the pool of blood.

“How long have you been like this?” she exclaimed, worried sick.

“Oh, it's Yaz. Hi, Yaz.” The Doctor's eyes opened slightly and she smiled softly at her companion.

“Hi yourself, Doctor. What happened here, then?”

“Well, I tried to get changed and then I just sat down.”

Yaz bit back a sigh. “And you didn't think to ask for help?”

“Didn't want to be a burden,” the Doctor muttered, struggling to push herself up off the floor. "You've already had to get me back to the TARDIS, the least I can do is sort this out." She glared down at the sluggishly bleeding wound. Yaz reached out a hand to help her up.

“You will never be a burden to me, Doctor. To us, I mean.”

The Doctor reluctantly took Yaz's hand.

“Are you sure?” She seemed so small and weak at that moment that Yaz realised she was getting a glimpse at a side of the Doctor she had rarely seen. The Doctor was good at putting a face on things, at acting strong, and confident; but every now and again, the mask slipped and Yaz got to see that she was just as unsure as the rest of them. It was heart-warming and heart-breaking all at once and it never failed to give Yaz pause, because these were moments to be treasured, in a strange kind of way. They felt like windows into who the Doctor really was. There was a degree of trust implicit in being allowed to witness this side of her, and Yaz did not take that lightly.

Yaz carefully guided the Doctor to her feet, a firm grip on her arm, trying to keep the tone light.

“I've never been more certain.”

The Doctor puffed some blonde hair out of her eyes.

“In that case, I need to ask you a favour. I really want to shower so I can see the extent of the damage, but I don't think I can ask the boys for help with this, and...”

The Doctor continued but all Yaz could hear was white noise. She knew where this was going and she willed herself to pay attention, to not panic.

The Doctor was staring at her curiously. It was obvious that she'd finished speaking and Yaz wondered how long she'd been quiet.

“Of course!” she blurted, realising for the second time in recent history that she'd committed to something without having the foggiest clue as to what it was. Really, she knew she would probably always agree to whatever the Doctor asked of her.

The Doctor tilted her head to one side, gaze soft, despite the pain that pinched her features. She looked tired, and Yaz knew she had to push aside her internal panic to help her.

“Are you sure you're okay?” the Doctor asked, eyes fixing on the plaster Graham had helpfully applied to her head. “That looks so sore.” There was quite a lot of bruising and Yaz distantly wondered if her tetanus jab was up-to-date.

She nodded dumbly.

“Well then, let's get this show on the road!” the Doctor exclaimed. “I was thinking scissors might be the easiest way to get this off,” she said, pulling the bloody fabric away from her body. Yaz's brain short-circuited.

“Scissors,” she echoed.

The Doctor waited patiently for her to catch up.

“Right! Scissors,” Yaz said, coming to life as she embraced the fact she had to get on with this. There was another first aid kit open on the counter, and Yaz washed her hands before retrieving a pair of scissors. Hands trembling only slightly, she pinched the fabric and started to cut away the material, keeping her eyes focused on the task at hand. The Doctor's suspenders were danging around her knees, and Yaz could feel them brush against her legs as she stood closer. She could also feel the Doctor's steady breaths on her neck as she bent downwards to concentrate.

Slowly, the material started to part, and Yaz made a very conscious effort to ignore the skin that was revealed. It was quite easy, really, given that it was disguised in blood. Shirt cut, she carefully eased it off the Doctor's shoulders, leaving the other woman standing before her in just a bra and trousers. Yaz gulped. _She was magnificent_.

“Need any more help?” Yaz made a deliberate point of looking at the Doctor's face and the Doctor's face alone, surprised to see a slight flush on her cheeks. Yaz imagined if she were to look in a mirror, she would be equally if not more pink in the face. The Doctor's eyes were slightly glazed, and Yaz wondered if it had anything to do with their proximity. They were so close that their breaths mingled, and Yaz took that as a sign to take a reluctant step back.

“I...no. Thanks, Yaz.” The Doctor smiled sadly. “I'll just shower the worst of this off,” she gestured at the blood, “and then maybe we could have that chat you mentioned? After a nap?”

Her tone was hopeful.

“Of course, Doctor,” said Yaz. “If it's alright with you, I might just wait around so that I know you're not collapsed on the floor again. I'll be just outside.”

As soon as she shut the bathroom door, Yaz stumbled to the edge of the Doctor's bed, trying to calm herself. Her brain tortured her with every millisecond of the interaction and she put her head in her hands, willing it to leave her alone. She smiled as she heard the Doctor start to hum, the water start to run, but jumped to her feet when she heard a yell.

“Doctor!” she pushed open the door to a room full of steam, and waved a hand in front of her face to clear it.

“Ah, yes. I had a slight mishap.” The Doctor called through the mist.

As Yaz drew closer, she could see the Doctor sitting on the floor of the shower. She was completely naked, but this time, Yaz ignored the unhelpful side of her brain, and without hesitation stepped into the shower, not caring that it soaked her clothes through instantly. Instead, she sat on the floor next to the Doctor as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Want a hand?”

“Maybe,” the Doctor admitted, hair plastered to her head and looking truly miserable. “As soon as the water touched it, it hurt.”

Yaz looked around, reaching for a flannel and soap and lathering the material up.

“I'm just going to work around it with this, okay? I promise I won't touch it.” She nodded at the open wound.

They sat like that for endless minutes, Yaz gently washing the blood from the Doctor's skin as she sat there silently. Yaz could feel her watching her work, but refused to be distracted from her task. Finally, the Doctor spoke, breaking the quiet calm that had settled over them.

“You're so beautiful, did you know that?” she murmured, entranced. 

Yaz almost dropped the flannel. She finally let herself be sidelined and made eye contact with the Doctor, heart racing.

“I mean it, Yaz. I don't think I've ever said this before now.”

Yaz sat back on her haunches, flannel now well and truly discarded.

“I-thank you, Doctor,” she replied, flustered. “I think you are, too, you know.”

The Doctor ducked her head, thoroughly unused to receiving compliments. Yaz laughed lightly at the fact that neither of them knew what to do with the words.

“What a pair we make,” she said, her laugh gaining momentum. The situation seemed so downright barmy that she had to laugh, but inside she was over the moon at the sentiment. _The Doctor thinks I'm beautiful._ She felt warmth rush through her at the thought.

The Doctor looked up at her, eyes twinkling when she saw Yaz's smile.

“That we do,” she agreed, her laughter joining in and filling Yaz's heart with joy.


	13. An ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, guys...the end. A big thank you to everyone who has read and commented on every single bloody chapter, your commitment means the world to me (as does your encouragement!). I don't think I've ever received so many comments on a fic and it means a hell of a lot. I write for my own entertainment but I really love that it brings some fun to other people, too. And it's fun to engage with everyone reading :D
> 
> So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy, and if you ever want to send me prompts or just chat in general, come find me on Tumblr (maglex). I need to start thinking of my next story so ideas are very welcome :) Yes, that's right, you aren't going to get rid of me just yet...

Yaz realised the error of her ways when her sodden jeans left pools of water all over the bathroom floor. She stared down at her soggy socks, grimacing at the feel of wet, warm denim rubbing against her thighs. There really was nothing worse than wet jeans.

“Alright, Yaz, I'm decent!” the Doctor called from behind her.

Yaz turned to see the other woman safely wrapped up in a fluffy purple towel. She was immediately relieved but now that she knew exactly what was under that towel, Yaz also found herself cursing its existence.

“Bandage and bed, right?”

The Doctor nodded, trying her best not to fidget as Yaz reached for another towel and used it to dry the exposed skin of her arms. It was really rather difficult to stay still when Yaz was touching her so gently, and all that stood between them was a haphazardly wrapped towel that was in danger of slipping at any time. She wobbled slightly as Yaz slowed the movement of her hands, leaving them to rest supportively on her waist. Their eyes met and it was like time ground to a halt. Yaz scanned the Doctor's expression for a clue, a hint that it was ok to touch her like this. Helping out a friend in need was one thing, but friends didn't look at one another the way they were doing right now. Like a lightbulb had gone off, Yaz realised they looked at each other like this all the time.  
  
"You're still dripping," the Doctor observed, eyes not leaving Yaz's.  
  
"Right. Right, yeah." Yaz blinked, breaking the eye contact, and removed her hands, opting to keep them busy with the first aid kit as she retrieved some gauze and tape.  
  
"I'll just cover the worst of it and let you rest."  
  
The Doctor was quiet as Yaz started to tape the gauze down, brow furrowed in pain. She gasped when Yaz's gentle touch stimulated the over-sensitive skin.  
  
"Sorry, Doctor. Nearly finished." Yaz winced as she laid the material over the wound.  
  
"Don't apologise, Yaz. It's been a long time since anybody's looked after me like this."  
  
Yaz's expression grew sad. The thought of the Doctor travelling alone never failed to make her feel melancholy.  
  
"Really? I can't imagine that," she said, biting her lip as she tried to smooth down the last stubborn piece of tape. The Doctor's skin was too damp for it to adhere properly.  
  
"I don't think I really let anyone get all that close. Not in recent memory, anyway."  
  
Yaz stepped back, fingers hovering as she inspected her handiwork.  
  
"Why's that?" She had debated asking but took the plunge anyway, despite worrying that she might spook the other woman away from a rare moment of vulnerability.  
  
The Doctor nearly shrugged, before thinking better of it. "I think when you get to my age, have seen and done what I've seen and done, you learn to become self-sufficient.” She looked unbearably sad and Yaz felt an empathetic pang. “But every now and again, people can surprise you. Take Graham, for example."  
  
_Graham?_  
  
"He lost his wife and yet he never lost his sense of humour. And Ryan, for that matter, he lost his nan and he got straight back on his bike. Literally."  
  
Yaz smiled sadly. _Of course the Doctor didn't mean anything romantic by it. Foolish to think otherwise_.  
  
"And then there's you. Yasmin Khan. I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like you, so brave and selfless and honest. And it's made me realise that I need to be honest."  
  
Yaz felt dread start to seep through her. Phrases like that always made her think the worst.  
  
"What do you mean?" She stammered.  
  
"Hey, it's okay. I don't mean anything bad, Yaz. I just have to say something, because it's been driving me mad for weeks, now. And recent events have made me realise that I've not been doing myself any favours. I've been burying things too deeply, ignoring them, because I don't know what to do about it. And that's not like me. I'm a problem-solver! Not a problem-ignorer.”  
  
Yaz raised an eyebrow, curious where this was going.  
  
"Is there something going on here? You know, between us? I'll admit I'm not very good with social cues, but you've seemed different, recently." The words came out in a rush, but the Doctor's expression was so open, so vulnerable, that it took Yaz's breath away. Helpfully, the Doctor was still thinking aloud, buying her some time to come up with a cogent answer.  
  
"It's just, I'm not used to how things feel as a woman. Like emotions. They're all...jumbled up." The Doctor wriggled her fingers for emphasis. Yaz tried not to stare at them. "They feel different than before. It's very confusing, trying to figure out what I actually feel and what I'm reading into things."  
  
Yaz took a deep breath. There were a lot of things to unpack in that statement, so she started with the most obvious question.  
  
"What do you feel?" she asked, hardly daring to breathe. It felt like she was walking on thin ice - one wrong step and she would go crashing through.  
  
"Right now, I have no idea," the Doctor huffed in frustration, sagging against the bathroom counter. She looked exhausted, and Yaz took pity on her.  
  
"Just....give me five minutes to get changed, and we can talk somewhere more comfortable?"  
  
The Doctor would never refuse a request like that. "Of course, Yaz. Let me get you some dry clothes." She left Yaz to get undressed and Yaz nearly had a meltdown as soon as she was left alone. _What am I going to say? Yes, Doctor, I really, really like you - you know, in a romantic way - and I hope you like me too. Maybe you just can't tell?_  
  
Yaz groaned aloud.  
  
"Okay in there, Yaz?" The Doctor called from her bedroom. Yaz gathered her wits about her.  
  
"Yeah, just coming! Did you find some clothes?"  
  
At that, the bathroom door eased open and the Doctor's hand emerged, bearing some stripy pyjamas. They looked incredibly comfortable and Yaz expressed her gratitude as she took them, realising that they smelled of the Doctor as she slipped the top over her head. _Oh god._ Butterflies came to life in her stomach. She stared at the mirror for a minute, mentally preparing herself for this conversation. It was long overdue, at least from her perspective, and she rehearsed a couple of crucial things that she wanted to say.  
  
Steeling herself, she opened the door to find the Doctor fast asleep on her bed. _Oh, for-_  
  
Yaz sighed. Crisis averted, for now. She tiptoed carefully across the room, and had almost reached the door when she heard the Doctor's sleepy voice call out.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"I'm letting you get some rest, Doctor. You really do need it."

The Doctor shook her head stubbornly. "Would you stay for now? I think I'd like that."  
  
_As if I'd ever say no to you, Doctor_.  
  
Yaz walked back to the bed, which looked to be at least king-sized and very appealing, not least because the Doctor was on it.  
  
"Alright, but on one condition. You need to actually get in the covers."  
  
The Doctor stumbled to her feet without comment, smiling at Yaz as she folded down the duvet. She clambered back in, easing herself onto the mattress so that she didn't land too heavily on her bandages. She was asleep again by the time Yaz pulled the duvet over them. It felt nice to look after the Doctor, even if she stubbornly refused to admit she was in need of rest.  
  
Yaz watched her for a moment, relieved when the Doctor's subtly pained expression started to relax. After hours of being on the move, exhaustion well and truly hit, and try as she might to stay awake just a little longer and watch the Doctor sleep, Yaz felt her eyelids grow heavy and then she, too, was out like a light.  
  
\----------  
  
Yaz knew she was still in bed, but this time she was surrounded by warm, naked skin. She turned to one side and there was the Doctor, pressed up against her and moving her hand lower, teasing the skin of Yaz's stomach as it drifted downwards. Yaz could feel her hips moving, could feel her breaths coming out in harsh pants, and was completely in thrall to the sensations.  
  
She could feel gentle pressure between her legs, a throbbing heat that completely possessed her. The Doctor was so good at this, and Yaz could feel herself start to respond as she writhed on the bed. Then the Doctor's lips were on her neck, teasing the skin there as her hands worked magic.  
  
"Yaz?"  
  
"Don't stop."  
  
"Don't stop what?"  
  
"You know what," Yaz sighed.  
  
"No, I really have no idea."  
  
_Oh no. Not again_.  
  
Yaz's eyes opened to see the Doctor looking at her with mild amusement. She looked much healthier than she had previously, and Yaz wondered how long they'd been asleep. It was disorientating, waking up to the Doctor's face. _But I could get used to it._  
  
"Was I talking in my sleep?" Yaz willed her heart to stop beating its way out of her chest.  
  
"Hmm, no," the Doctor hummed. "Just those noises you made before. Another nightmare?"  
  
Yaz shook her head.  
  
"What were you dreaming about?"  
  
Yaz hesitated, then opted for brutal honesty. It seemed only fair, given how upfront the Doctor had been.

"You." She blushed, remembering her dream.

"Oh?" The Doctor picked up on Yaz's blown pupils, the pulse that was jumping in her neck, and her increased body heat. She had an inkling what Yaz's dream had been about and decided to test the theory.  
  
"What was happening?"  
  
Yaz groaned, then bit her lip in embarrassment. It was just so hard to stay restrained when the subject of your dreams was that damned close.  
  
"Just...nice things." Yaz's gaze flicked down to her lips.  
  
The Doctor considered the vague answer, mentally calculating her options. The evidence was starting to lean in favour of a course of action the Doctor was only too willing to pursue. _Definitely time for an experiment_.

Throwing caution to the wind she leaned forward, closing the distance between them and capturing Yaz's soft lips with her own. Her companion was so distracted by their proximity that she didn't realise the Doctor had moved closer until their lips were suddenly touching, sending a jolt straight to her core. She gasped in response, and the Doctor pulled back, eyes dark.  
  
"Like that?"  
  
Yaz nodded, dumbstruck. She wasn't sure that had really just happened, and she was already mourning the end of their very brief first kiss. She needed more.  
  
"And like this," she muttered, fisting her hand in the Doctor's shirt as she leaned in, weeks and months of pent-up emotions unleashing and channelling themselves through a kiss that left them both completely breathless. Every time they pulled apart for air, one of them would initiate another kiss, to the point where Yaz lost count. They kissed for a long, long time. She groaned as the Doctor's tongue swiped at her lower lip, opening her mouth to welcome it in and tugging on the shirt in her hands as she felt it move against her own.

Already wound up to the point of distraction by her dream, Yaz instinctively flung a leg over the Doctor's hips and straddled her waist, desperate for more contact. They slotted together so naturally that it felt like they'd done it before. The Doctor looked at Yaz in awe, eyes alive with the discovery that kissing Yasmin Khan felt absolutely incredible.

“Are you telling me I've been missing out on this? This whole time?” she said, eyes wide and cheeks pink. Her tone was one of disbelief.

Yaz laughed. “I didn't realise you felt the same way, you know. You were giving out some very mixed signals.”

“I'll need to work on that, then,” said the Doctor, placing her hands on Yaz's waist. “Better?”

Yaz nodded. “Much.”

“How long?”

The question was incomplete but Yaz knew precisely what she meant.

“Honestly? Since the spiders.”

“But that's...more than four thousand hours, Yaz. So much time, gone."

“Four thou- how did you calculate that so quickly?” Yaz laughed again, completely bewildered. “Anyway, don't think of it like that. Those four thousand hours have led us here, you know. To this exact moment.”

“Let's hope it was worth the wait,” the Doctor grumbled, still a bit miffed that she'd missed out on so much potential time together.

“Of that, I am completely sure,” Yaz grinned. “Want me to show you?”

The Doctor could only nod as Yaz leaned down to kiss her again, pouring her heart and soul into it. She hummed in contentment as the Doctor's hands came up to rest on her back in gentle encouragement. After several long moments they pulled apart.

“I believe you're right, Yaz,” said the Doctor, beaming. “Patience really is a virtue.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on twitter (@mag_lex) or Tumblr (maglex)


End file.
